


funtimes in babylon

by qveenbvtch



Category: Narcos (TV)
Genre: (so much) sexual tension, Adult Content, Angst, Banter, Biting, Dirty Talk, F/M, Female Masturbation, Flirting, Mentions of Violence, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Recreational Drug Use, Ruined Orgasms, Semi-Public Sex, Smoking, Smut, Spanking, Swearing, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering, alcohol use, including some blood and gore, mututal pining, slight age gap, vaginal intercourse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:28:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 70,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25836523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qveenbvtch/pseuds/qveenbvtch
Summary: in the summer of 1988 you make the somewhat rash decision to move to Bogotá to study for your post grad. but after spending less than one semester at your university you decide to drop out. after all, it’s kind of hard to focus on school work when the streets are filled with bullets and drugs, not to mention trying to come to terms with your own pre-mid life crisis. but hey, Colombia has been good to you, and you aren’t ready to leave just yet. so when you take a job bartending at a local dive bar you figure it’d be an easy way to ride out the last few months of your visa. that was until a certain DEA agent by the name of Javier Peña became your favorite regular
Relationships: Javier Peña & Reader, Javier Peña/Reader, Javier Peña/You
Comments: 70
Kudos: 229





	1. Chapter 1

When the day you successfully completed your last year of college had finally arrived, you promised yourself that you were _definitely_ done with school. Besides, after having dedicated the last four years of your life to sitting in lecture halls for what often felt like days on end, writing paper after paper, and having meltdowns late into the night over your own stubborn intellect (or lack thereof at times), it seemed only fair to flip higher education the bird and bid it _adiós._

You honestly couldn’t even remember the last time you had done anything fun or spontaneous that didn’t involve a party on campus somewhere, or meeting up with classmates at a bar to bitch over cheap beer and darts about which professors you hoped would retire, or worse, drop dead. Though the latter was usually reserved for exam weeks. In fact, you were so over the very _idea_ of school that you had thought about skipping your graduation ceremony all together. This was of course immediately vetoed by your parents the moment the suggestion slipped out of your mouth. 

So you were surprised that less than a year after graduating you found yourself looking into post-graduate programs at various universities across the country, and eventually the world. Maybe you were bored. Or, more realistically, maybe you weren’t quite ready to give up that one constant thing you’d been able to rely on. After all, up until recently your day to day life had been structured. Familiar. _Safe_. Sure school had almost killed you a few times, but it was what you did best. There was a restlessness in your heart that was hard to ignore, and even though you still weren’t entirely sure about what you wanted to be when you grew up, you knew that you wanted to at least try to figure it out somewhere new. Somewhere… _foreign_. 

You had no idea why you finally settled on the Universidad Nacional de Colombia in Bogotá. After all, the political climate down there was….not exactly _ideal._ You knew a _little bit_ about the war on drugs that was taking place in Colombia and the men who sold and manufactured the narcotics that had overtaken the country. Images of one man in particular by the name of Pablo Escobar had flashed across the evening news on more than one occasion over the years. But despite the fact that Colombia was dangerous you still wanted to go. _Why the fuck not?_ you thought. You didn’t have kids, you weren’t in a relationship, and your parents lived in a completely different time zone than you (not to mention an alternate universe called “retirement”), there was absolutely nothing holding you back. Would it really be so bad spending a few months in South America by yourself while you attempted to sort your life out? You had barely registered just how naive that last thought was before you started filling out the necessary paperwork to leave the country. Sure you’d be trapped in a classroom again, but going back to school seemed like the logical thing to do. At least this time it wouldn’t be mundane. Or so you hoped. You couldn’t really tell if the empty feeling that was gnawing away at your insides was in agreement or not. 

So, six months later, you found yourself boarding a plane to Bogotá with nothing but a suitcase, your passport, and a temporary visa. It took almost nine hours to get there, but when you landed you felt practically giddy over having taken such a big step all on your own. That feeling continued for the entire duration of your cab ride from the airport to your new apartment. It wasn’t until you stepped out of the car and noticed what looked suspiciously like bullet holes on the side of your building that the giddiness quickly evaporated and you rushed inside before you could talk yourself out of staying, flag your cab driver down again, and demand he take you back to the airport. 

The building itself was older, as were most of its residents. And you were by far the youngest person living there, but that didn’t bother you much. Your favorite neighbor quickly became the widow who lived across the hall named Señora Rosa who was well into her eighties but still sharp as a tack and almost unbearably kind. Your first morning there she had knocked on your door to greet you with a small bouquet of sunflowers, a bag of freshly ground Colombian coffee and a warm “ _Hola mija_!” 

You weren’t sure if it was the jet lag, your fears that you had made a huge mistake in coming here, or just anxiety in general, but as you took the items from her wrinkled hands you had to fight back tears as you whispered your thanks to her. 

The empty feeling began to subside. 

* * *

Classes started shortly after and you found yourself settling back into a familiar routine. Sure the setting was different, and sometimes you had difficulty keeping up with the fast pace of your professors (after all Spanish was not your first language), but you did well enough. You made a few friends out of some classmates right off the bat, and they were endearingly obsessed with your stories about life in America. You yourself were equally enamored with them sharing the history of their country and lives with you. Although sometimes you were horrified at how casually they described the raw violence they witnessed on their streets. They warned you about which neighborhoods to avoid, what a _sicario_ was and how to recognize when you saw one, and most importantly to _ignore_ the fuck out of them. When you mentioned the cluster of bullet holes on your apartment building they actually laughed. “You’ll get used to it _gringa_.” Their casual response and teasing nickname was meant to put you at ease, and to an extent you felt like it did. But some nights when you were lying in bed you would hear far off gunshots, and even once or twice an explosion, and you found yourself wondering if you ever actually would.

They were also _very_ eager to take you out almost every night in Bogotá to share its rich nightlife with you. You often found yourself dancing in clubs and bar hopping or sometimes just sitting on someone’s patio drinking wine and smoking cigarettes. You had even- and you weren’t particularly proud of this- found yourself snorting that vicious white powder that the country was known for in the bathroom of a bar one night. 

It was hard to believe that just a few lines of something could make you feel so alive. Your entire body felt like it had been electrocuted, and you were positive that your skin was actually fucking vibrating at one point. You quite literally felt like you were on top of the word. That night your jokes had never been funnier or your wit so sharp. Your thoughts and mouth moved a mile a minute, and you danced harder and longer than you ever had in your entire life. Suddenly everyone’s obsession with this particular drug made all the sense in the world. 

Unfortunately, you also drank more than you normally would’ve that night and somehow smoked an entire pack of cigarettes by yourself. When you finally stumbled home at 7 am you still didn’t feel tired even though you had gotten embarrassingly winded walking up the two flights of stairs to your apartment. It wasn’t until after you kicked your high heels off (Holy fuck, you were _still_ wearing them?), poured yourself a glass of water, and sat down on your couch that you realized your entire body was sagging with exhaustion. When you woke up the following afternoon you felt like you had been hit by a train. Every single part of you hurt and your lungs gurgled like they were filled with hot tar every time you took a breath. You’d experienced your fair share of hangovers before, but this one, you thought, **_this one_** might actually fucking kill you.

It took you over an hour to peel yourself off of your couch and crawl into the shower (which you had to sit in because standing was impossible), and as you crouched under the hot water with your head tilted back against the tiles, you swore up and down that you would never, ever, _ever_ do cocaine again. 

* * *

You made it about halfway through your semester before you realized that the empty feeling was still there. Your classes no longer held any interest to you, the topics were boring, and the papers became too tedious to keep up with. It was obvious that you had made a mistake, one born from foolish indecisiveness and rash desperation. You had hoped that by switching up your routine by leaving the US you would somehow find the answers to the questions you still didn’t quite know how to phrase. Instead you found you were just doing the exact same thing you had always done, just on a different continent. The obvious solution you decided, (and this time you actually gave it some serious thought) was to drop out.

You could always return you thought. The university would always be there for you to go back to should the actual honest to god desire ever enter your heart and your mind. But you knew that was unlikely. Just like how deep down from the very beginning you had known that this wasn’t what you had come here to do. Whatever that was, you had time to figure it out. Or maybe you could just spend the next few months unwinding and having some fucking fun like you had been every time you weren’t trapped within your classroom walls. What would be the harm in that? 

As you left the university and started walking home you realized with a grin that you had outgrown the final safety net of your youth. 

And it felt really fucking _good_.

* * *

When you phoned your parents and told them the news you were now a college dropout, you were greeted with a stern lecture from your father (he spent 25 minutes yelling at you), before passing the phone off to your mother who begged you (sobbed at you for another 30 minutes) to come home before you got shot, or worse. _You never should’ve told her about the fucking bullet holes on your apartment building._ Eventually you started to zone out of the conversation, but hearing your father’s gruff voice yell “What the hell does she think she’s going to do about her rent?!” over the sounds of your mother crying brought you back down to earth. You didn’t come from a well-to-do family by any means, but your parents had graciously offered to help split the cost of your rent with you for the first three months while you were getting settled at school until you could find work somewhere. “Maybe at a bar or something,” your father had joked. So when you told your mother not to worry, and that you planned on still staying in Bogotá for as long as you could, and _yes_ you were going to get a job, she huffed out a less than enthusiastic “Oh yeah? And where exactly do you plan to do that?” 

“I don’t know,” you said as you twirled the phone cord around your pinky finger absentmindedly. “Maybe at a bar or something…”

The wail she responded with was so loud, you had to hold the phone away from your ear. 

* * *

Which was how you found yourself standing outside of a shitty little dive bar called The Monarch Club the next day. It was a very convenient seven minute walk from your apartment and had a “bartender wanted” sign that had been hanging in the window for over a week now. You marched in and right up to the bar where you saw a rather short and portly middle aged man standing behind it holding a clipboard and counting the various liquor bottles that sat on its shelves.

“Excuse me sir,” the words tumbled from your mouth in Spanish. “I saw your help wanted sign out front and was wondering if there was someone I could speak to about it?”

“That depends,” the man replied to you in English which caught you off guard. “Is your bartending any better than your Spanish?”

You tensed up and felt your cheeks grow warm at his words and suddenly found yourself playing back what you had said in your mind, panicking that you used a wrong phrase or two and possibly insulted him. He must’ve noticed your distress because he laughed at you, though not unkindly, before setting his clipboard down on the bar. “Relax _mija_ , I was just fucking with you. Your Spanish was fine, I heard your accent and couldn’t resist. I’m the owner Raúl.”

You felt your shoulders drop as you exhaled a quiet little “ _JesusfuckingChrist_ ” under your breath. Though apparently it wasn’t nearly as quiet as you had hoped because suddenly Raúl was laughing at you again. 

“I can already tell that you have the mouth to survive working here, but do you have the experience to back it up?” 

You caught yourself fidgeting a little bit out of a nervous habit more than anything and he gestured for you to take a seat on one of the worn down bar stools in front of you. As you made yourself comfortable Raúl busied himself by setting two shot glasses on the bar, both of which he quickly filled to the brim with _aquardiente_. “Well?” he asked again. “Do you have any bartending experience Miss…”

You told him your name as he pushed one of the shots towards you before raising his own in a silent cheers. You quickly grabbed the little glass and briefly wondered if this was actually how this guy liked to interview people before you tipped it back and down your throat. It burned, but you refused to let it show, just in case this was some sort of test, and without even thinking you were setting it down and gesturing for him to fill it up again, which he happily did for the two of you. 

“When I was in high school I worked at a golf club as a waitress.” You said finally answering his question. “I was only there for a month.”

“Being a teenage waitress serving old white men sandwiches and iced tea isn’t exactly bartending, _mija_. You seem like a smart girl, surely you must know that.” Raúl took his shot and made a slightly pained face. “And why were you there for only a month anyway? Were you that bad at your job?”

You downed your second drink while looking at him through narrowed eyes. The burn was still there but you once again forced yourself to remain impassive. “I was only there for a month because one of those old white guys thought it would be real cute to pinch my ass while I was taking his order. So I hit him with my drink tray and got fired.”

Raúl stared at you in silence before he suddenly tipped his head back and let out a hearty laugh that was so big and loud you could see that he had two gold molars hidden towards the back of his mouth. He was still laughing as he picked up the bottle of _aquardiente_ and poured you both another round.

“Perfect _mija_ ,” he rasped out as he wiped a tear from his eye. “I think you’ll be a perfect fit here.”

* * *

Working at The Monarch Club ended up being a lot easier than you thought it would be. Raúl himself personally gave you a crash course in bartending your first week there that you aced with flying colors. Even so, he still made it a point to hang around you like a second shadow during your first few shifts just to make sure you got the hang of everything and weren’t in the weeds. 

The crowd that came in wasn’t too bad. Occasionally there would be times where small groups of men in bright floral button downs and flashy gold jewelry would waltz in like they owned the place and you’d hear quiet murmurs of “ _sicarios_ ” under a patron or staff member’s breath. You knew well enough to not engage with them as much as you possibly could, but surprisingly they never caused any trouble. They’d sit down, order drinks, play pool for a few hours, chain smoke, and shamelessly flirt with whoever their cocktail waitress was. The girls relished in the attention, and you were convinced that one or two of them were probably fucking if not dating the cartel members. Not that you judged them, you hadn’t always made the smartest dating choices over the years. After all, your most recent ex before moving down to Bogotá had been a shitty folk singer. And for some reason you thought that was worse.

After a week or two of proving to Raúl that one: you were in fact capable of pouring beer and making cocktails in a timely fashion all by yourself. Two: that you were tough enough to hold your own and not take any shit from drunk customers. And three: almost downright _gleeful_ when presented with the opportunity to cut off the more obnoxiously rude ones and kick them out, he stopped hovering over you. And then one lazy Tuesday afternoon he set down a copy of the keys on the bar and said “I think you can handle this,” while gesturing around the nearly empty bar before he loudly announced hat he was done for the day and wanted to go home to his wife. “Don’t burn my bar down _mija_!” Was the last thing he said to you as he walked out the front door. 

You couldn’t help but bristle with pride a little bit as you picked up the keys and let them dangle between your fingers. Raúl trusting you to close it down on your own meant that you must had done something right, and after spending the past few months feeling the exact opposite of that, it was a very welcome change.

The day went by like a breeze. You had a steady flow of people coming in and out of the bar as the hours passed, but it never got insanely busy. A pitcher of beer here, a couple of rum and Cokes there, someone asking for change for the jukebox. You were almost bored. So after taking a quick glance around and seeing that the two occupied tables still had full drinks, a group of girls were busy playing pool, and your one guy sitting at the bar rail was so deeply invested in his newspaper that he hadn’t even so much as sipped his beer, you decided to busy yourself by polishing some glasses.

You became so engrossed in your task of trying to rub off a particularly stubborn smudge of red lipstick from a shot glass that you hadn’t even noticed a man walk up to the bar, pull out a stool and sit down. This meant you also hadn’t noticed his first attempt at getting your attention. Or his second.

In fact, it wasn’t until you heard a rather loud, slightly annoyed, _obviously fake_ cough, that you jumped letting out a squeaky “ _oh shit_ ”, and felt the glass begin to slip from your hand. You bent over desperately fumbling to catch it before it could shatter on the floor and barely caught it in time. When you stood back up, face flushed, body slightly trembling, clutching the damn thing so tightly to your chest that it dug into your sternum, you were greeted by the sight of a man- _an unfairly handsome one at that_ \- smirking at you.

“I can see that you’re busy and I hate to interrupt, but what are the chances I could order a drink from you?”

You felt your face grow even hotter at the sound of his low, slightly gravely baritone. How was it possible for someone’s voice to be _that_ deep? Christ, the sound of it almost vibrated through your chest. A moment of silence passed before you realized he was still waiting for you to answer him, the same amused smirk on his face.

“Um, yeah of course. I’m so sorry about that. What would you like?”

“Just a beer and a shot of whiskey,” he replied as he reached into his jacket pocket to grab a pack of cigarettes. Your mouth opened to ask him what kind of whiskey, but before you could get the words out he already had your answer. “Whatever you have that isn’t the shittiest.”

“Okay,” you said in a voice that was still a little too breathless for your liking. You quickly poured him a pint of beer before you rummaged around the bar looking for the not shittiest bottle of whiskey you could find. It was only then that you realized you recognized him. He came into The Monarch Club fairly often, but he would always sit down near the back by the pool table hidden in the dark. Usually he would only stop in for an hour or so, meeting with someone and spending his time huddled down deep in conversation with them before he would suddenly get up and walk out. This was the closest you had ever been to him so you took the time to study his reflection in the the giant mirror that was hanging behind the bar. 

His dark hair was lightly styled, but a few strands fell over his equally dark brows which seemed to be pulled down in a permanent frown. Tired brown eyes rested above high cheek bones and a large hawkish nose. His dark mustache was well groomed and sat above an almost criminally pouty looking mouth which he quickly covered with one of his large hands when he brought a cigarette up to his lips and lit it. When he inhaled you noticed just how long and thick his neck was and as he took off his leather jacket exposing his broad shoulders you actually fucking _sighed_. There was something about his tan complexion and dark features, fuck, even the smoke that poured from his mouth that made you think if you reached out and touched him he would feel warm, like a stone that had been left out in the afternoon sun. His eyes met yours in the mirror and you quickly averted your gaze as you settled on grabbing a bottle of Wild Turkey and poured him a shot.

“Here you go,” you said incredibly thankful that your voice had finally returned to normal. The words had come out steady and sure of themselves. You set his drinks down in front of him, but he made no move to grab either one. Instead he just sat there and stared at you.

“Was…there something else you needed?”

“No,” he said as he shrugged his magnificent shoulders. “I was just wondering what a nice American girl was doing working in a shitty little dive bar in Bogotá.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. _No one_ was allowed to insult The Monarch Club. Except for its equally shitty employees. That had been the first rule Raúl had told you about the bar.

“Because it’s my _favorite_ shitty little dive bar in all of Bogotá. Have you considered what it says about you for choosing to come in here?”

The dark chuckle that escaped his mouth at your words made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. He grabbed his beer and took a large sip. “Okay, I take it back. You’re not nice.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, feeling charmed against your will by his easy, flirtatious nature. “I never said I was.”

“I’m Javier by the way,” he said as he extended his arm across the bar offering you his hand. You reached out and grabbed it in your infinitely smaller one and were pleasantly surprised to find out that yes, he was in fact _really fucking warm_. You held his gaze with as much determination as you could and shook hands before giving him your name in return.

He repeated it under his breath as he released you from his grip, almost like he was testing it out to see how it felt in his mouth. He must’ve liked it because he said it again, only that time it was louder and then he went back to puffing on his cigarette. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Even though you don’t think I’m nice?”

The god damn smirk was back.

“ _Especially_ because you’re not nice.”

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as you both grinned at one another. Eventually you turned away from him and went back to polishing more glasses. Out of the corner of your eye you could see him raise his beer to his plush lips every other minute or so to take another drink. More than once you felt his gaze on your figure as you worked, but made no point of acknowledging it. Mostly because you were worried that if you did he would stop. 

“So,” he said after a few moments. “What _are_ you doing in Colombia?” 

“Came down here for school,” you answered, still refusing to look at him.

“Didn’t know we had a bartending school down here,” he muttered as he set his empty pint glass on the counter top with a soft clink. You rolled your eyes and reached for it, allowing your fingertips to just barely brush against his as you grabbed it from his hand and placed it in the sink below you. 

“Oh ha ha. I take it you’re a wanna be stand up comedian?”

“Close. I work down at the embassy,” he laughed humorlessly. “Lately it feels like a fucking joke there.”

“The embassy?” That peaked your interest. He didn’t look much like your typical pencil pushing office worker. Besides, most men who worked in an office setting knew how to properly button their shirts. Not that you were complaining that he obviously didn’t. Although his exposed chest had proven to be a little _too_ distracting for your liking. “What sort of work do you do there?”

“A little of this, a little of that.” His answer was vague and frustrating, and based how this first interaction with him had gone so far you were starting to get the feeling that maybe those were just his two main settings. You had no idea why you liked it as much as you did.

Just as you were about to bite out your own retort at him, the front door was slammed open with an explosive **bang** as a small group of twenty somethings who were _way_ too drunk for how early the evening was stumbled in. Their laughter and shouts pierced through your otherwise peaceful bar as they moved closer to where you stood.

Javier took one look at them and a scowl overcame his face. He snubbed out the last of his cigarette with a huff in the ashtray to his left and stood up suddenly - _holy shit he was taller than you thought_ \- and pulled his wallet out from the back pocket of his too tight jeans. 

“I’ll see you around _corazón,_ ” he said as he tossed some money on the bar before he grabbed his shot and downed it in the blink of an eye. 

You racked your brain trying to think of the translation of that last word he said, but your mind unfortunately came up blank. “Well, you know where to find me.” You wanted to cringe at the fact you actually said that out loud.

He shrugged his jacket back on and then-it happened so quickly you thought you had imagined it- had the audacity to actually fucking _wink_ at you.

“I do now.”

And with that he swept past the gaggle of people at the end of the bar (who were loudly clamoring for your attention) and swiftly walked through the front door and out into the night. It was only when you were halfway through pouring out the last of the daiquiris for the large groups’ order that it finally hit you. 

_Corazón._

_Corazón…_

…sweetheart.

**Oh.**


	2. Chapter 2

The front door to The Monarch Club opened suddenly allowing the late afternoon sun to flood into the otherwise dimly lit bar. The sound of traffic outside and the sudden change in lighting caused your head to snap up and you looked towards the direction of the front entrance as a hopeful expression overtook your face. That was until you saw the woman who walked through the door put her arm up and wave to her friends who were already sitting at a table as they called out for her to come join them.

You sighed before you turned back around so you could continue working on stocking beer bottles in one of the coolers. You worked in relative silence, someone had decided to play the entire _Surfer Rosa_ album on the jukebox and the hard sounds of the Pixies mixed surprisingly well with the echoing conversations of everyone around you and the clacking of pool balls being hit into corner pockets. The background noise was almost loud enough to drown out the sound of Raúl loudly gulping down his fifth cup of coffee that day, his pen furiously scribbling across his order sheet for the week’s liquor order. 

The door opened yet again and your head quickly turned to see who had just come in. This time it was definitely a man, and it looked like he _might_ have had a mustache, but you couldn’t tell for certain because you were blinded by the sun that outlined his silhouette. Just as you were about call out a certain name, he moved forward to join the group by the pool table, and you realized he wasn’t the person you had been hoping to see. 

“Your head is gonna snap off your pretty little neck if you keep whipping it around like that every time the door opens _mija_ ,” Raúl said as he continued his inventory order. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were expecting someone.”

“No I’m not,” you responded defensively pretending to suddenly be very interested in tightening a tap handle. “Just always curious to see who comes in here”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“I am _not_!”

“I hope you realize that was actually a complement. Honesty isn’t a common trait these days. Especially in Bogotá.”

You sighed before kneeling back down on the floor as you continued organizing the beer cooler, equally annoyed with both yourself for your behavior and Raúl for calling you out about it so casually. It had been three days since Javier had sat at your bar and introduced himself, and he hadn’t been back in yet. Not even to hide out in his little corner in the back for one of his…meetings.

You found yourself wondering if it had anything to do with his job at the embassy. Whatever the hell that was. You’d often found yourself imagining all sorts of scenarios as to what exactly his job entailed, as well as daydreaming about him in general. Thoughts of which you would almost immediately snap out of mostly due to embarrassment, that and the fear that someone in the vicinity might actually have the powers of telepathy and could hear your pitifully obsessive thoughts over a man you barely knew that you had met approximately seventy-two hours earlier. You felt like a teenager with a crush even though you were closer to thirty, and you wondered if this was just another side effect of whatever pre-midlife crisis you had been stuck in for the past few months now.

Which was why every time you heard the front door open, you would look up hoping to see Javier’s tall figure walking through the entrance with that teasing smirk on his face. And every time he didn’t, you felt a small wave of disappointment flood through the pit of your stomach.

_Pathetic._

Raúl being the most annoyingly observant human being in the world wasn’t helping matters by watching you with an amused look on his face as you repeatedly perked up like a puppy who was eagerly waiting for their owner to come home and take them on a walk whenever the front door handle so much as shook, only to pout shortly afterwards when they realized it was some random person who had walked in instead.

Again, _pathetic_.

So when the door opened for the third time in fifteen minutes, you stood up so fast from your crouched position near the cooler that the top of your head actually hit the edge of the cash drawer and you yelped out in surprise. This of course resulted in Raúl throwing his pen down with an alarmed “ _Mija!_ ” as he raced around to meet you behind the bar, asking if you were okay, and seriously, _what the hell was going on with you today_? You grumbled out that you were alright as you rubbed the top of your head, already feeling a bump starting to form. Your eyes were watering, but that didn’t stop you from glancing over Raúl’s head (which wasn’t that hard considering were a good 3 inches taller than him) hoping that it wasn’t Javier who has just walked in and potentially witnessed you almost giving yourself a fucking concussion. Relief flooded through you when saw it wasn’t him, but a couple who were sitting at the end of the bar with matching looks of concern on their faces as they stared at you.

Before you had a chance to let them know you’d be right with them, Raúl was suddenly barking your name out and shaking you by the shoulders. “Would you stop looking at that goddamn door for five minutes? “

“I’m sorry boss,” you replied, eyes still watering. “I’m just not all there today I guess.”

“No shit,” he said gruffly. “Take ten and go in the alley and get some fresh air.”

“But those two-“ you gestured towards the couple who were still staring at you with worry clearly etched in their eyes.

“But nothing! Go the fuck outside. Smoke a cigarette, splash some water on your face in the bathroom on your way back in, I don’t care. Just stop doing whatever this is and then come back and get to work.”

“But-” you started again

“ ** _Mija_** ,” he said, his tone firmer than you’d ever heard it directed at you. “Go. _Now_. I can handle the bar for a little while while you get your head out of your ass.”

And with that he began to lightly shove you out from behind the bar and down the hallway that led to the side door of the bar. Muttering under his breath the entire time about space cadets and workmen’s comp.

Raúl was right, you thought as you walked out of the employee entrance and into the side alley where you and the other staff members would take your breaks. You needed to get it together. If you kept this up you’d end up cutting off a finger tip while slicing some limes next time the front door opened.

You weren’t entirely sure how or why Javier had invaded the corners of your mind the way he had. You had spoken to him for all of what, 30 minutes when he had come in on Tuesday? You were positive he was only becoming a fixation of yours out of boredom and loneliness. That was really your only excuse. Well, that and it had felt nice to have a handsome man flirt at you for a little while.

You leaned against the wall of the alley as you waited for your head to stop throbbing and you found yourself silently willing your heart rate to ease up too. You still had six hours left of your shift to make it through, and you needed to do it in one piece.

So with a heavy exhale of “ _get it the fuck together girl_ ” you went back inside, deciding to make a quick detour to the employee bathroom to splash some water on your face per Raúl’s suggestion. You locked eyes with your reflection in the mirror and decided that while you definitely weren’t the shining beacon of pristine beauty at the moment, you had definitely looked a lot worse, and it’s not like you were trying to impress anyone anyway.

 _He’ll probably never set foot in this bar again anyway,_ you thought as you rounded the corner that led back to the front. No, there was absolutely no way in hell you would ever see…

_Javier._

Javier who was sitting at the bar rail…

Cigarette dangling from his lips…

 _Right fucking now_. 

Javier who was also quietly thanking Raúl in his deep voice for the bottle of beer and what you could only assume was a shot of whiskey sitting in front of him.

You froze, suddenly unsure as to why you had been so excited at the possibility of seeing him again. Because now that he was actually in the fucking bar, the thought of having to engage in a conversation with him made your heart stop and your mouth go dry.

He must’ve seen your abrupt pause in movement out of the corner of his eye, because suddenly his head snapped in your direction, not unlike how your head had been snapping towards the door all afternoon. And then he was smirking crookedly at you, and god damn it, why did he like to wink so much?

 _You could quit,_ you thought suddenly. _Just turn around walk out the back door and never set foot in here again_. That meant you would never have to worry about seeing him or his stupid handsome face ever again, because apparently he only existed in this bar to specifically torment you.

But that wasn’t a particularly realistic thought. Especially since Raúl was now impatiently calling out your name and gesturing for you to step back behind the bar and do your fucking job.

You felt your feet begin to move as if they were on autopilot, slowly marching you back towards the bar and therefore closer to Javier. And when finally you stepped behind the bar rail, you found yourself praying to a god you weren’t even sure you believed in that your face wasn’t giving away so much as a hint of the nauseating panic that had overcome every inch of you at the sight of him. 

“Well, I’m glad you decided to come back _mija_ ,” Raúl said. “I thought maybe you had passed out in the alley.”

God you wanted to slap him.

“No, I just lost track of time on my break,” you responded. “But I’m back now, so you can _go away now_.”

Raúl raised his eyebrows at you and slowly opened his mouth, but thankfully whatever words he was going to bite back at you died on his tongue when he noticed your flushed cheeks and the silent pleading look in your eyes. His own eyes darted between you and Javier and you could’ve sworn you saw an actual light bulb pop on over his balding head. You didn’t need to look at Javier to know he was probably watching your entire exchange with Raúl. You dreaded the thought of turning around and seeing what his expression must have looked like at the sight of you two.

“ _Riiiiiiight_ ,” Raúl said, his hands already reaching out to grab his clipboard and coffee mug from the bar. “I think you’ve got this under control. I’ll be in the office finishing the order if you need me.” His departure wasn’t quick enough for your liking however, especially considering the fact that he took the time to pause briefly behind Javier and give you a thumbs up over his broad shoulders before he scurried off into the back where the office was.

“So, do you always talk to your boss that way?”

Fuck, you had forgotten just how much you enjoyed the sound of his voice.

“Only when he’s being annoying.”

“I don’t know _corazón_ ,” Javier sighed at you while he exhaled a cloud of smoke. “When you were outside on your _break_ it seemed like he was doing you a favor watching the bar. If he hadn’t been back here who knows how long I would’ve had to wait.” 

“I’m sure you would’ve survived, after all you’re a big boy.” You made a point to say the last two words in a slightly sing-songy voice like you were talking to a toddler. 

“I was hoping you would be a little bit nicer to me the next time I came in.”

“You haven’t given me a reason to yet.”

“If you say so,” he shrugged as he drank his beer.

Even though your heart beat hadn’t returned to a completely normal rhythm just yet, you were pleasantly surprised to find that you and Javier had seemingly effortlessly picked right back up from where you had left off three days earlier. You couldn’t remember the last time banter with another person had ever some so naturally to you. Especially from a relative stranger you had met in a bar.

“How is school going?” he suddenly asked you. His question, though unexpected, had a borderline warming effect on your body, specifically in your chest. He had actually remembered something you had told him about yourself.

“Um, I’m not really going currently.”

“I thought you said that’s why you came here,” he remarked with a frown at your response. 

“Well, yeah I mean it was partially,” you replied as you fidgeted under his gaze. “But then I started my classes and my heart just wasn’t in it so I dropped out.” 

“Partially?”

“Huh?”

“You said it ‘was partially’ the reason you came here.” Something about his demeanor had changed. His tone was no longer light and teasing, but pointed and a little demanding. Like he was used to speaking to people this way and getting the answers he wanted from them too.

“I was bored-”

“You were _bored_?” 

“Well, y-y-yes and lonely too I gue-”

“You were bored _and_ lonely, so you decided to come all the way down to Bogotá?”His tone suddenly incredulous. You couldn’t tell if he thought you were brave or stupid. Though you were worried he was definitely leaning towards the latter.

“I know it doesn’t make any sense,” you said feeling a bit defensive. You had never taken the time to actually voice these thoughts out loud to anyone. “It barely does to me even now, but I wasn’t happy back home. I hadn’t been in…well, a really long time. I felt lost you know? And _really_ fucking lonely, but I guess I figured there had to be a difference between staying in the same place feeling lonely all the time and choosing to go somewhere new to be alone for a little while. So why not try it out…right?”

Javier just stared at you as if he had never seen anyone quite like you in his entire life. And for some reason that made you keep going.

“I mean yeah, sometimes I’m still a little bit lonely, but being here, learning how to make a new life for myself _by_ myself…it feels good. _I_ feel good, like I’m getting to know parts of myself that I never even knew existed.”

You stopped then feeling embarrassed that maybe you had just confused him with your long, rambling answer to his question. If he didn’t think you were an idiot before he had to now.

“I know, it’s- it’s fucking stupid.” 

“No _corazón_ ,” he finally said. “It isn’t stupid at all, naive maybe, but I don’t think you’re stupid.”

His response made you feel better. Sure he had called you naive, but you would gladly take that over stupid any day. Even though sometimes you worried that the line between the them was way too easily blurred.

“How do you like working here?” He asked, suddenly changing the subject.

“I love it. Everyone here is great, and despite what I said earlier Raúl is amazing. He took a chance on me no questions asked and I feel like I owe him my life sometimes. There’s some questionable people who come in from time to time, but I’m sure that’s how it is anywhere.”

“Questionable how?”

“ _Sicarios,_ ” You noticed that his eyes had flashed when you said that word. “I don’t know how familiar you are with them-”

“Oh I’m familiar with them,” he scoffed. 

“Right, uh yeah, well they’re about as bad as it gets.”

Javier leaned forward suddenly so that both of his arms rested on the counter top, crossed tightly against his chest. Even though he had essentially made himself smaller by doing so, his close proximity to you from crowding himself up against the bar felt so intense that you couldn’t even blink.

“Have they ever come in here before and tried to sell cocaine?”

“No way, Raúl would never allow that,” you told him as your eyes darted over his face. “He hates all drugs, and doesn’t want anything to do with them, here or anywhere else. That’s probably why they rarely come in, and when they do Raúl watches them like a hawk.”

“So you’ve never noticed anyone doing anything suspicious in the bar or making any sort deals?”

Why did it suddenly feel like you were being interrogated?

“Well considering that I’ve done it before, I think I’d recognize if someone was selling or doing coke anywhere in the bar.” Your eyes widened at your own admission, and so did Javier’s. You frantically blinked a few times as if you were pulling yourself from a trance. Javier leaned away from you until his back hit his seat and stared at you with an unreadable expression.

“ _You’ve_ tried cocaine?”

Well, there was turning back now. You had already admitted it out loud to him, but that didn’t mean you still couldn’t shut the conversation down.

“Just once. And I never want to do it again.”

Javier brought his hand up towards mouth and smoothed down his mustache with his thumb and index finger before he let it drop down to cradle his own chin.

“You’re full of surprises _corazón_.”

* * *

That weekend you found yourself sitting on the patio of a little café, grabbing a late breakfast with your friend Celia, one of the few classmates you still kept in touch with after having dropped out. Born and raised in Bogotá, she had become your go to for advice on all the best ways to occupy your time in the city when you weren’t at work or hiding out at home. As an eternal party girl her suggestions usually involved dancing at clubs, crashing parties in expensive mansions, or doing a ridiculous amount blow. Thankfully, you had caught her during a period of rest when you had phoned her up to see if she wanted to hang out, and she had been the one to suggest that the two of you grab “a nice little breakfast at this adorable café”.

“So what’s new with you _gringa_?” she asked over the soft clinking of your champagne flutes as you toasted one another over mimosas for having successfully woken up before 2 pm on a Saturday. “How are things? Do you miss school yet?” Celia had always been notorious for prattling off question after question before giving anybody a chance to actually answer her. Luckily most people found it to be endearing.

“Things are good,” you said answering her first question. You paused to take a sip of your drink before continuing. “I definitely _do not_ miss school yet. And I’ve just been busy working at the bar.”

“Have you met any cute guys there? I bet you’ve got them all eating out of the palm of your hand.” 

“I mean, yeah there’s maybe one or…two I guess.”

Her bright red lips curled into a devious smile at your words. If there was one thing Celia excelled at above partying, it was her almost uncanny ability to sniff out when someone she knew had a crush. You kind of hated her for it a little bit. 

“Sooooo, by one or two that means there’s definitely _a guy_ for sure.” 

Oh god, there she goes. Luckily for you at that exact moment your server appeared with your orders and set them down in front of you both, before bowing off and leaving you to enjoy your meal. You wouldn’t be able to answer her questions if you kept your mouth full with eggs, toast, and fruit for the next…well, however long she planned on keeping you against your will at the café.

“Come on!” She whined loudly. “You know how much I love _love_ , and men, and the things you can do them and vice versa. So tell me about your bar crush.”

“I never said I had a bar crush,” you muttered through a mouthful of your omelette. 

“Yes, but you also never said you _didn’t_ ,” she replied with a wink. She made it completely impossible to say no to her about anything. Ever.

“Fine,” you said as Celia squealed in delight that you were finally playing along. “I don’t know much about him okay? We’ve only talked to each other two times so far.”

“I don’t give a shit just describe him to me,” she said as she bounced up and down in her seat. If you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought she was high.

“He’s a little older than me, tall, has these ridiculously broad shoulders, dark hair, and a mustache that I actually _don’t_ hate?” Celia just nodded frantically at you to continue, her mouth filled with food. “I’m pretty sure he’s from somewhere in the States like me. He smokes like a chimney, and he seems a little grumpy all the time, but not in a bad way? He’s constantly flirting with me, but I don’t know if he actually means anything by it. I just like when he comes in because he’s not bad to look at and I actually _really_ enjoy talking to him.”

“You should definitely try to fuck him.”

“I had a feeling you were going to say that.”

“So does he have a name? What does he do?”

“Jesus Celia, calm down. His name is Javier and he works at the embassy, but I have no idea what he actually does,” you said before you refocused your attention back on your plate. It wasn’t until you were four bites in before you realized that Celia was quiet. She had never once in the handful of months you’d known her successfully been able to shut up about anything. You were a little worried at what that could’ve meant.

“Is his last name Peña?” She asked you suddenly. Only one question. You were definitely worried now.

“I don’t know, he’s never told me,” you admitted.

“But you said he’s tall, hot but like in a broody way, smokes too much, has a nice ‘stache, and is a huge flirt, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Does he also wear these big dumb tinted aviators and bright shirts that he always leaves unbuttoned?”

“I wouldn’t call them _dumb…_ ”

An excited whoop erupted from Celia’s lips and she slapped the table with her open palm. “I knew it! _I fucking knew it!_ ” She exclaimed while looking positively thrilled with herself over her great deductive skills. “That’s Javier _fucking_ Peña. Of course _you’d_ have the hots for him.”

“Wait, how are you so sure it’s even the same guy? And how do you even know him?” You asked suddenly feeling very confused and a little unsettled. 

“I am _positive_ it’s the same guy, because I am never wrong about this stuff. And I don’t know him personally, but I did see him leaving my cousin Luciana’s place one time. They used to fuck.”

_Oh._

“So…how long ago did they date?” You asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible while you pushed what was left of your breakfast around the plate with your fork.

“I said they _fucked_ , not dated,” Celia tutted at you. “Up until recently Luciana used to be a lady of the night.” she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at the last part. 

_OH._

You were surprised. Something about the way Javier carried himself made you think he would never have to pay for the company of women. Let alone their intimacy. He was charismatic and handsome, and you couldn’t figure out why he of all people would have to pay for sex. 

_Maybe he was bad in bed._ The thought was both equally hilarious and depressing. If he was in fact bad at sex then that would definitely remove some the grandeur you had built up in your head around him. If you were lucky it might even make him less intimidating the next time he came into the bar. But a part of you also hoped that you were wrong.

You were giving this way too much thought. It’s not like you were ever going to screw the guy anyway and find out firsthand, no matter what Celia said about him.

“They hooked up for a few months about a year ago now?” Celia continued breaking you away from your train of thoughts. She waved her fork around with the same dramatic flair she used when telling stories she found particularly amusing. “To this day if anyone so much as even mentions his name Lulu will go on these tangents about how he was some of the best sex she’s ever had.”

Well, there went that theory.

“She also said he slept with a lot of the other girls who had clients who were part of the cartels. I guess it’s how he gets a lot of his intel for work.”

“Intel? For work?”

“Oh shit that’s right, you don’t know! He’s fucking DEA, isn’t that wild?”

A DEA agent. Suddenly it all made sense. No wonder he probably only had the time for the paid embraces of women. It also explained why he always looked so tired and frustrated. You felt your chest tighten ever so slightly at the thought of what Javier has to face on a daily basis because of his work. Spending what you could only imagine had been years of his life devoted entirely to tracking down drug dealers and trying to stop the trafficking of cocaine out of Colombia and into the rest of the world. 

Wait…… _cocaine._

“Oh god!” You suddenly exclaimed eyes wide with horror and embarrassment. “ _Oh my fucking god!_ I told him about that one time I did coke with you guys!”

Celia laughed so loud at your agonized expression that the other café patrons turned to look at you both with a mixture of annoyance and bemusement.

“It’s not fucking funny Cee” you hissed out through gritted teeth. “I told a fucking DEA agent that I’ve done coke before. What if he comes back and arrests me?”

“Oh yeah,” she snorted on the verge of tears as she watched you bury your face in your hands. “He’s totally gonna arrest you the next time he pops in. I bet you’re on his most wanted list right below Escobar.”

Her laughter turned into a horrified shriek when you flung a piece of fruit at her face. 

* * *

Javier didn’t even cross your mind once in the days that followed. That was largely due to the fact that some sort of late summertime cold had swept through the bar taking out not only Raúl, but your other two bartenders Matias and Emmanuel right along with him. Which left just you and Raúl’s less than competent son Tito who was ordered by his father to step in and help you out. And since Tito could barely pour a beer without fucking it up, you had been responsible for babysitting him when he was behind the bar, even if that meant you had to be there all fucking day.

To say that you were exhausted was the understatement of the century. Not even your worst exam week had given you such an intense ass kicking. Your senses and mind had been dulled from a level of exhaustion you hadn’t even known existed. And you were beyond desperate for a day off, which thankfully sounded like it would be happening soon. Emmanuel had called the bar that morning to tell you his fever had finally broken and he was planning on coming in the next day. You were so happy upon hearing the news that you had actually started sobbing while still on the phone with him, which resulted in Emmanuel having to console you for five minutes before you could hang up. You had barely finished wiping the hot tears from your cheeks when Javier snuck in and quietly sat down in his usual spot at the bar.

“Jesus, _corazón_ you look like shit.”

“If you want me to serve you, you’re going to have to be a little bit nicer because I’ve had a shitty few days and this one might just be the shittiest yet,” you snapped at him even though you had already started to reach for his usual bottle of Wild Turkey.

“That’s rich coming from you.”

The look you shot in his direction made him hold his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m sorry you’re having a bad day _corazón_.”

You were surprised at how sincere his words had sounded and how soft his eyes looked at that moment

“I promise I won’t give you a hard time today.”

You gave him a quick nod of thanks as you set down his drinks in front of him, not as gently as you normally would have, but you figured it had to do how heavy your arms felt from exhaustion and not anger.

“Thank you,” he murmured as he reached for the beer bottle.

“You’re welcome Agent Peña.”

 _Oh shit_.

A very tense and heavy silence filled the air as you both just stared at one another, neither of you wanting to make the first move. Javier’s already naturally stern looking face seemed tighter than it normally did, and you suddenly wondered if your tired attempt at being flirty and using his official title might have been an overstep. Maybe he had never meant for you to know about this particular detail of his life. After all, it wasn’t like you two were even friends. He was just some guy, a cute, funny, _frustratingly charming_ guy, who sat at your bar, over tipped you, and made you feel good about yourself every time he came in. What if you had just ruined all of that with one little offhanded comment? 

Javier sighed deep and heavy as he grabbed his beer and took a long, steady gulp before setting the bottle back down on the counter top with a somewhat aggressive show of force that caused you to flinch. He made no indication if he had noticed your startled movement or not. Instead he reached for a cigarette from his pack and lit it, his movements precise and tense.

“Who told you?” He finally asked as he rubbed the back of his thumb between his furrowed brows.

“I’m not at liberty to reveal my sources.”

God why couldn’t you just shut the fuck up and think before you spoke? It was almost like the tired grumpy part of you was _trying_ to piss him off so your own misery had some company.

He snorted under his breath and continued to smoke before he finally lowered his hand from his face and looked you in the eyes. Their warm coffee depths were darker than you had ever seen them, but thankfully they didn’t seem angry. Irritated? For sure. Annoyed? _Absolutely_. You could handle that at least.

“You do realize that implies you have been asking people about me.”

“Not really. It could just imply that we happen to know some of the same people.”

“Christ I hope not,” he said. “Most of the people I know aren’t that nice.”

“That’s probably why we got along so well.”

You were without a doubt, the most annoying person alive in Colombia. 

“ _Corazón_ ,” his nickname for you dripped out of his mouth low and dark, almost like he was warning you to start taking the conversation seriously. “You are much nicer than any of them could ever hope to be.”

He turned his head and pointedly stared at the front entrance. A sense of dread set in as you realized you had to move quickly to put out the fire you had inadvertently started. You weren’t even sure if you’d be able to, but you knew that you had to try, and you had to try _hard_.

“Javier, hey Javier. _Please_ look at me.” Your hand shot out across the bar and landed on top of his clenched fist that rested near his beer bottle. “I’m, fuck, I’m sorry okay? Really, I am. I didn’t mean to upset you, I’m just tired and I…I don’t know. I was just trying to be cute or funny or something and it was a really bad idea. I know it’s not an excuse, but I am really, _really_ sorry if I’ve upset you. And I promise you I haven’t been digging around in your personal business.”

He still refused to look in your direction, even after you had finished with your long winded and clumsy apology. When he finally turned his head back towards you, he held your gaze briefly before he letting his eyes drop down to where your hands met and he silently watched as you rubbed your thumb against his knuckles. 

Eventually his large hand shifted beneath yours, and then he was turning it upwards so that his palm was pressed against your own and then he squeezed your hand ever so lightly in his. You’d barely registered what had happened before he pulled his hand back out from under yours and slid it down below the bar and out of your sight.

_You’re forgiven._

The tension between the two of dissipated and you felt a wave of relief wash over you as you watched him down his shot. _It was over,_ you thought. _You could both move on from this and never speak of it._

“So who told you?” he asked again. 

_Or maybe not._

“Just…someone here at the bar,” you offered lamely, not wanting to throw Celia under the bus. You were also concerned that if you told him about the conversation you’d had with her at the café you would somehow accidentally let it slip that you also knew intimate details about his sex life on top of everything else. 

“You’re a terrible liar.”

The fire apparently still had a few embers burning, so you decided to finish putting it out the only way you could think of. 

“How about another shot?” You asked. “It’s on me.”

“Well, since it’s on you…” he replied while giving you your favorite smirk. It didn’t completely reach his eyes, but it was a start you thought. 

“I’d give you the whole bottle if Raúl wouldn’t fire me over it.” 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to kill me.”

“Never,” you replied dramatically as you refilled his shot glass. “My wallet would miss you too much.”

“I’ve heard that before,” he snorted under his breath and you blushed at his words. You really wished Celia hadn’t told you about the prostitutes. Thankfully he was too busy to notice your flushed cheeks as he tilted his head up towards the ceiling to drink his whiskey.

You became painfully aware that you were quite literally trapped in a very small space right in front of him. Normally this wouldn’t have bothered you, but you thought it might be in your best interest to make yourself scarce for a little while in case he needed some time to himself. Fuck, maybe you just needed to put yourself in timeout.

“You do realize why I didn’t want to tell you about it…right?”

Javier stared at you, patiently waiting for you to give him your answer. You knew you owed him a serious response, so you weighed your words carefully in your mind before breathing them to life. 

“I mean, I figured it’s probably hard to talk about a job like that considering most of it is…confidential?”

“That too, but it’s my entire fucking life. I’ve spent more years down here chasing these asshole traffickers then I haven’t at this point. And a lot of the time I feel like I don’t have a single fucking thing to show for it…” His words trailed off like he wasn’t sure if he should continue speaking.

You stood silently and watched as his put out his cigarette before grabbing another one immediately afterwards. Something told you that Javier rarely allowed himself to speak openly about anything in his life, especially this. And more than anything you wanted to let him continue uninterrupted for as long as he wanted to make up for the upset you had caused earlier.

After all, you knew what it felt like to be lonely. You had shared that part of yourself with him only a few days prior. You didn’t know if he felt his loneliness that same way you did yours, the feeling of it spread out so deeply in your bones that your joints would lock up and words escaped you. Not even your thoughts were capable of spelling anything out, just tangled lines of various emotions you knew the names of, but couldn’t pronounce. Like they were in a foreign language you’d spent your whole life studying but never quite got the hang of. You’d lost count of all the times you had found yourself wishing you had someone just to talk _at_. So no matter how he carried his, you figured the least you could do was quietly offer him the courtesy you had so often denied yourself. You would let him talk until he was blue in the face if he wanted. And you would remain there with him in the silence that followed if need be.

“I just need a fucking break from it sometimes,” he finally continued as he puffed away on his cigarette with an intensity that even you found impressive. “I like being able to come to a place like this, have a few drinks, and not have to think about _sicarios_ , or coke, or fucking Escobar, or any of the other shit I have to deal with. Even if it’s only for a little while, it’s a welcomed distraction.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place to vent about it,” you said. “If you wanted to at least. Bartenders are basically therapists anyway.”

“Who told you that?”

“Raúl. And this guy last night who told me his wife was leaving him for their neighbor while he sobbed into his vodka soda.”

He still seemed skeptical.

“All I’m saying, is that if you need a distraction…or maybe even just a friend since you don’t really seem like the therapy kind of guy -Hey, don’t fucking laugh at me!- I’m, well you know, _here._ ” 

It was silent again between the two of you except for the low background noise of the rest of bar that was nothing more than a gentle hum that surrounded you both. 

“I probably won’t.”

“Won’t what?”

“Talk to you about it”

“Yeah, no. O-o-o-of course,” you found yourself backtracking suddenly worried that you had overstepped yet again. “I would never try to force you into doing something you weren’t-”

“There’s other things we could talk about instead,” he interrupted. “If you wanted to that is. You know, as friends.”

 _Friends_. Javier actually wanted to be friends?

“I would,” you replied quickly, suddenly feeling wide awake for the first time in days. “Want to talk about other things with you…as friends.”

He smiled at you, and for the first time it wasn’t his usual smirk that he had always thrown your way. It made him look a little younger than he was, softer even. And you couldn’t help but think he that he was one of the most beautiful men you had ever seen. 

“Good, I guess that settles it then.”

“Yeah, I guess it does.”

“So, are you gonna pour me another shot?”

“Of course. You’re paying for it though.”

“Some friend you are.”

* * *

Something between the two of you shifted that day. You weren’t quite sure what, but it was palpable. You no longer dreaded Javier coming into the bar nor did you vibrate with excitement at the mere thought of randomly seeing him there. Well, not as intensely as you had before at least. And most importantly your head no longer whipped towards the door whenever you heard it open. Probably because he eventually asked you for your schedule every week so he could plan his visits accordingly.

“Don’t think too much into it, _corazón_ ,” he had said to you the first time he asked you to write down your hours for the week on a cocktail napkin. “The drinks here are cheap, and I’d rather come in when Raúl isn’t behind the bar. I don’t think he likes me very much.”

“Well who said I liked you?”

“Touché.” 

Eventually you two had it down to an almost comically coordinated dance. Though his schedule was often chaotic, he always made a point to swing by The Monarch Club at least twice a week. The one day he never missed however was Tuesday. He would show up every time without fail around 7:45 pm and you would have his usual order ready for him at his usual spot at at bar, or as close to it as possible if someone else had gotten there before him. Those were the slower nights so you had more time to focus on one another. You’d talk and he’d drink, or he’d talk and you’d clean, and sometimes you’d play games like hangman on the back of an old receipt someone had left behind. He was surprisingly good at it and almost all of his word choices were incredibly profane, but it was also your preferred method of learning slang words in Spanish, and he had been more than happy to teach you. If he happened to be feeling particular bored during one of his visits, he would purposefully rile you up by asking if you had experimented with any other narcotics lately, which resulted in you throwing a lime wedge or a rag at him in retaliation that he would casually evade with the ease of a man who had spent most of his adult life dodging bullets and other close calls. 

He rarely talked about work just like he promised, and you never bothered to ask. But he would sometimes make the occasional comment about having a headache from all the paperwork he had to do, or how if he wouldn’t get fired over it he’d really like to punch the ambassador in the face (but just once). Your favorite work related story though had to have been the one time where he actually went on a 15 minute rant about how his back was killing him because his “fucking hillbilly partner” had misjudged his landing from jumping off a roof (an actual fucking _roof_ ) while they had been chasing a suspect that afternoon and twisted his ankle. Which resulted in Javier having to basically drag his stupid ass half a mile back to their parked car. 

But then there were some days where you knew something must had gone horribly wrong and shit had hit the fan. Those were when his visits were both unexpected and very late, much closer to the bar actually closing down for the night. His expression would be even darker than normal and his brooding so intense you were worried the scowl he wore would never go away. Those nights you would barely say anything to each other. You would just give him his space while silently keeping him company as you’d watch him from the corner of your eye while he worked his way through half a pack of cigarettes and two or three double pours of really expensive bourbon.

He would eventually get up, throwing down enough money to cover his tab as well as a tip that was far too generous, and leave before you would have the chance to say goodbye. Sometimes he slipped out before you had even noticed he’d finished his last drink. Probably skulking off into the night to try and find something -or _someone_ \- much more potent than liquor and nicotine for him to bury his frustrations in.

But even during those stony visits of his, you felt a sense of peace knowing that he was there. Like you could keep an eye on him. That for all his doom and gloom and his secrets, at least you knew where he was. That he was safe, physically at least. And for some reason those were the nights you enjoyed the most with him. Even more so than the other times where you would banter back and forth and tease each other mercilessly. Because for some as of yet indescribable reason, those were the nights where you felt closest to him, without a single ounce of heavy loneliness coursing through your veins. 

And as you would watch him light up yet another cigarette, handsome face once again disappearing behind a cloud of smoke, you wondered if he felt that way too.


	3. Chapter 3

“Ummmm, I wanna say ‘o’?”

“ _Corazón_ , the whole point of this was for you to learn some more Spanish. The least you could do is pronounce the letters correctly too.”

You stopped polishing the pint glass in your hands and stared Javier down with a deeply annoyed look. He himself stared right back at you with an equally unimpressed expression of his own, complete with one of his dark brows raised higher than the other. The matching mischievous glints in each other’s eyes gave away that neither one of you were actually exasperated with one another. Not yet at least.

It was Tuesday night and you had already made it through three games of hangman since he had sat down at the bar nearly forty minutes earlier. Each round you played he found something new to critique you on. You figured it was revenge for all the times you had insulted his artist abilities (or lack thereof) when he added another body part on the scrap paper containing the dashes that would eventually spell out the Spanish phrases you had been guessing at for almost an hour now. Javier began tapping the pen he held in his right hand against the bar as he waited for you to repeat yourself _properly._

“Fine, I guess the letter ‘o’,” You said, while purposefully and dramatically sounding the letter out as _“oh”_ in Spanish just like he had asked of you. Javier smirked before adding the letter between the “c” and the “n” you had correctly guessed earlier.

“Good girl. That wasn’t so hard was it?”

You couldn’t help the feeling of warmth that ignited in your stomach at his choice of words. _Good girl?_ Fuck, hearing him call you that was somehow both better and worse than his usual _corazón._ You found yourself wondering if there were other ways you could possibly get him to call you that again. Perhaps under different circumstances…

 _No_.

Enough of that.

Javier was your friend. A good friend, one who actively and sincerely made a point to ask you about your day whenever he came into the bar to see you. He also remembered little details about your life, like how every Sunday you went to the farmers market near your apartment with Señora Rosa, and he would ask you about which baked goods or flowers you had picked up during your most recent trip. Or he would listen with an amused smile as you went on and on about how you had rearranged your entire living room for the _fifth_ time since you had moved in because you still weren’t happy with the layout of your pre-furnished home.

It never seemed like he was humoring you with his attention, and better yet for every part of yourself that you shared he made an attempt to do the same. You now knew that he was originally from Texas, that he was very close with his father, and had once _briefly_ considered becoming a lawyer before he decided to join the DEA. For someone who was slightly older than you and walked a completely different path in life, your interactions never felt forced and you got along remarkably well.

So yeah, Javier was a _good_ friend. Your stupidly handsome, irritatingly charming, overly flirty, sexy, (even when he was brooding) friend. One that you had found yourself thinking of in increasingly overly _friendly_ ways the past few weeks. And unfortunately those thoughts had been getting harder to control. And him calling you a “ _good girl_ ” definitely didn’t help matters.

“Did you want to stop playing?”

Javier’s question snapped your attention back to reality so quickly your whole body tensed like you had been electrocuted by his words.

“No, why? Do you?”

“No,” he shrugged, while eyeing you suspiciously. “Are you sure? You seem distracted.”

_Yeah, by you and that stupid red shirt you’re wearing._

“It’s nothing, just personal stuff.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No!” You yelled out, which caused a few customers to look your way. Your face flushed and you made a point to lower your voice when you continued. “I mean, no it’s not important. I don’t want to bother you with it.”

Javier still looked skeptical at your explanation and you noticed a shift in his posture as he tensed his shoulders and crossed his arms, a clear sign that he was moments away from breaking out his interrogation voice. Which was something that he had unfairly used on you once or twice when he wanted to extract certain information. You knew you only had a few seconds at most to distract him by changing the subject.

“Did you want another round?” You asked while gesturing to the empty glasses that sat before him.

He looked down at them for a split second before lifting an arm to glance at his watch.

“I better not,” he sighed. “I actually have to get ready to leave for Medellín tonight.”

His sudden announcement was unexpected. You stared at him and waited for him to elaborate, but instead he stood up and reached for his wallet in his back pocket.

“Are you going there for work?” You finally asked, your curiosity getting the best of you as you watched him pull out too much money as usual to pay you.

“Yeah,” his answer was short and to the point, like it was every other other time his job came up. “As always.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“Probably a week, maybe longer.”

A week with no Javier. You could handle that, fuck maybe at this point you even _needed_ it. You reached forward to clear the empty glasses in front of him, along with the scrap paper from your now abandoned game of hangman, but his hand shot out and grabbed yours before you could crumple it up.

“We’ll finish this round when I get back,” he said as he pulled the paper from your hand before folding it up with more gentleness than you had thought he was capable of, and then he slipped it into his wallet.

“Yeah…when you get back.”

He shrugged his leather jacket on and gave you a soft smile and a quick nod before he turned to leave.

“Javier!” You called out just as he reached the front door. He turned his head to look over his shoulder at you, dark eyes roaming over your face. You wanted to tell him that you were going to miss him, but instead you settled for a simple “Be safe, okay?”

“You too, _corazón_.”

The door opened, and then he was gone.

* * *

A week passed, and before you knew it Tuesday had come around again. On instinct you began getting Javier’s order ready right at 7:45 like you usually did, and waited for him to come in. A few minutes passed and you were busy cashing out another guest when you heard a bar stool being pulled out and someone sit down in it with a sigh. You turned around to say hello expecting to see Javier, but were disappointed to find it was only your coworker Emmanuel.

“Jesus, I’ve never seen anyone look so pissed to see me,” he said with a slight pout. You rolled your eyes in response.

“I already have to see your ugly mug three days a week, and now you’re coming in on your day off to bother me. Of course I’m upset to see you Manny.”

Emmanuel let out a booming laugh at your words, before reaching one of his long arms over the bar to grab an ashtray from where you stashed them. He knew you were kidding about his looks. Emmanuel was a ridiculously tall, barrel chested, pretty boy and everyone knew it. Especially him. Luckily his sweet demeanor often eclipsed his own vanity.

“Relax _chica_ ,” he said as he lit up one of his cigarillos. “I’m just here for a quick drink and to grab my tips from the other night and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“That better be a promise. If any of the girls see you sitting here they’re going to start tipping you instead of me.”

“You know I’d split it with you,” he said with a wink. You couldn’t help but smile at him before you turned to rummage around the cash drawer to find his tip out envelope.

“What do you want to drink, Manny?” You asked as you set his money down in front of him.

“Just gimme that beer and shot you have sitting by the register,” he said gesturing towards Javier’s drinks.

“That’s not for you,” you replied with a huff. You glanced at the clock behind the bar. It was now 8:15 and Javier still hadn’t shown up. Maybe he really was going to be in Medellín for longer than a week…

“My bad, that’s for your cop boyfriend isn’t it?”

“He’s _not_ my boyfriend Emmanuel,” you bristled, feeling very annoyed that apparently the entire bar staff gossiped about your personal life. “And he’s a DEA agent, not a cop.”

“That seems worse.”

“Manny…”

“All I’m saying is you shouldn’t get involved with customers,” he said. “Especially someone like him. Flirting is fine, but there’s a line you shouldn’t cross for the sake of not making things hard on yourself.”

“Hard on myself personally or professionally?” You asked with narrowed eyes.

“Both,” he replied.

“Are you warning me based on your own experiences Manny?”

“Oh, absolutely. Gotta look out for my favorite American coworker.”

“I’m your _only_ American coworker,” you pointed out. “But…thanks for looking out even though there’s nothing going on between me and Javier. We’re just friends.”

Emmanuel smiled sweetly at you like he knew you were lying. But you weren’t entirely sure if it was to him or yourself.

“So…can I have your _not_ cop boyfriend’s drinks since he doesn’t seem to be coming tonight?”

“Only if you promise to get the fuck out of here once you’re done.”

“Oh, _absolutely_.”

* * *

Having a Friday night off was the most foreign concept you had experienced since moving to Bogotá. Typically on those nights you would be chained behind the bar at work from 5pm until 3:30 in the morning or later. But this particular evening, you found yourself crammed next to Celia in the bustling women’s restroom of a new club she had insisted the two of you check out.

“You look fine _gringa_!” Cee called out to you as she applied more red lipstick that perfectly matched both her crop top and miniskirt in the bathroom mirror. “Stop pulling on the bottom of that dress or your tits are going to spill out!”

You couldn’t help it. The tight blue dress you were wearing belonged to her, but on you it felt about three inches too short and you couldn’t help but try to pull it further down to cover your exposed thighs, which caused the thin straps to dig into your exposed shoulders and the top of your cleavage to hang out more than you wanted.

“Did you want some coke?” Cee asked, while pulling out a little vial from between her breasts as she shook it in front of your face. “It might help you relax.”

“Cee, you and I both know that would do the exact _opposite_ of helping me relax.”

“Yeah, but it would make you stop tearing at your clothes and focus more on dancing!”

You shot her a look that challenged her to stop trying to pressure you into doing a bump, and she muttered a quiet “suit yourself” before bringing the tiny container up to her nose and snorting. She sniffed loudly before rubbing at her face and sliding the drugs back down her top.

“Well,” she chirped at you while linking her arm through yours before dragging you both out of the bathroom and back to the dancefloor of the club. “If you’re not going to get high with me, at the very least you can have a drink or two.”

“Yes Cee,” you laughed as the two of you fought your way through the swaying bodies towards the bar. “I’ll have a drink or _two_.”

* * *

A drink or two quickly turned into a drink or four, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. All you could focus on was the thumping bass of the music slamming its way through your body as you danced and danced and danced.

It had been a while since you’d been able to completely unwind and not think about work, or the fact your parents were barely returning your phone calls these days, or how you were finding it harder and harder to balance your feelings for a certain regular of yours without compromising your friendship with him.

Celia had disappeared two songs ago, shouting out that she had seen someone (a guy) she knew through the crowd of sweaty bodies and that she wanted to say a quick hello (make out). You had waved her off without a second thought and let the music and flashing lights overtake you. _Kiss_ by Prince was blasting through the club speakers and you were so focused on swaying your hips to the song that you barely noticed the pair of large hands that suddenly gripped your waist until they gave it a gentle squeeze.

You quickly turned around with an elbow raised, ready to strike the man behind you in the face, and you nearly hit him square in the nose before a loud “Easy _corazón_!” stopped you in your tracks.

“Javier?!” You yelled out in shock “What the fuck are you doing here? I thought you were still in Medellín!”

You were awkwardly half turned in his arms, one of his hands still on your waist, and the other gripping your arm that was still raised a mere inch away from his face. You squirmed out of his grip to turn and look at him properly though afterwards you wished you hadn’t.

Flashes of blues, reds, and purples ran across his face from the strobe lights that shone down above the dance floor, perfectly accentuating his cheekbones and his nose. He was wearing his usual too tight jeans and a black button down that was partially open and exposing a great deal of his chest, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes trail over his long form from head to toe. You had never seen him outside of the bar before, nor had you ever been so close to him without a bar separating the two of you. A thumping sensation overwhelmed your entire body that had nothing to do with the music.

“I got back this morning,” he shouted out. Only he didn’t bother to look you in the eyes when he did. Instead his own dark gaze worked its way up and down your body, and you suddenly realized that you had never been so under dressed in his presence. He didn’t seem to mind one bit.

“Are you here with someone?” The two of you asked one another at the same time.

“Um, yeah I’m here with my friend Celia. What about you?”

“I’m here with…a friend.”

A _friend_.

“A _lady_ friend?” You knew that both your question and your pointed tone had been mostly fueled by the gin that was coursing through your veins. But you didn’t have the patience or the sobriety to dwell on it. Javier merely brushed the back of his thumb along his mustache and avoided looking into your eyes.

“My friend I’m here with happens to be a woman, yes.”

“So she’s your date?”

Holy shit you needed to stop talking.

“Why are you suddenly so interested in my love life?”

“I’m not!” You shot back. “I’m just wondering about the other people you hang out with when you’re not bothering me at work. You can’t blame me for a little friendly curiosity.”

Javier stared down at you with his head tilted to the side as a shit eating grin slowly overtook his face. It was a look you immediately recognized that usually signaled he was in a particularly teasing mood. And for once you weren’t sure if you could handle it.

But you would be goddamned if you weren’t going to try.

“I stopped by Monarch this afternoon,” he shouted. His use of the shortened version of the bar’s name made you smile, only its regulars called it that. “I figured I’d stop in to see if my _friend_ was working and wanted to finish our game. But you weren’t there.”

Your smile grew wider. He had only been back home for a few hours before he had gone to the bar specifically looking for _you_. The thought made your heart swell, and you hoped that your smile was more of a calm and collected smirk rather than a dopey lovesick grin thanks to your fourth gin and tonic.

Wait a minute, _lovesick_?

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“What!” You yelled back at him unsure if you had heard correctly.

Instead of shouting back at you he moved closer and crowded up against your body. His hand was back around your waist again and he tilted his head down so it was mere centimeters away from your own. His mustache tickled against the shell of your ear as it made contact with your skin.

“ _Can. I. Buy. You. A. **Drink.**_ ” He repeated, each word dripped out of his mouth directly into your ear and you shivered from the vibration of every syllable. You could feel his hot breath puff out against your face as he asked you the question, and you could smell the remnants of what you could only assume was what was left of his cologne that he must’ve sprayed on first thing in the morning. It was rich and warm with notes of amber and sandalwood mixed with something else that was deeper and masculine. You realized quickly that it was his sweat, and if you tilted your head just a little further towards him and opened your mouth you were certain you’d almost be able to taste it.

His close proximity to you mixed with his overwhelming presence sent a jolt of electricity from the base of your neck all the way down to your core, and you felt your thighs involuntarily clench against one another. The smirk you were greeted with as he pulled away to look you in your eyes was too knowing for him to be oblivious to the effect he was having on you.

In that moment you knew without a shadow of a doubt that Javier Peña was a fucking menace. And the only way you could get back at him was to be truly and heinously obnoxious.

“Well you might want to ask your _date_ if it’s okay you’re buying another woman a drink. You wouldn’t want to seem like a giant pri-”

His free hand clamped down over your mouth, cutting off your slightly slurred rambling. His other hand was still on your waist and you felt its grip tighten ever so slightly as he pulled you closer towards him.

“You’ve made your point _corazón_ ,” he murmured soft and low while he kept his hand firmly pressed against your mouth. “Are you going to be a good girl and shut up now?”

Out of a nervous habit more than anything, you felt your tongue dart out of your mouth to lick your lips, but instead it gently swept across his warm, slightly salty, palm. Javier’s shoulders tensed and he exhaled sharply at your action. But the moment your tongue retreated back into your mouth, he pulled his hand off like you had burned him.

“I-I-I’m sorry!” You whined out. “That was-fuck! I swear that was an accident, I-I-I didn’t mean to. You must think that was really gross.”

He didn’t answer, instead he just stood there staring at you, eyes darker than you had ever seen them, one hand still tightly gripping your waist, his thick fingers digging into the side of your hip. The other one, the one you had just fucking _licked_ , hung down by his thigh as he clenched and unclenched it in a tight fist.

His mouth opened to say something but suddenly a low, husky voice called out “Javi, there you are!” as a tall woman in a black sequined mini dress with incredibly high heels and an impeccably made up face sauntered up to him carrying two drinks. Javier’s hand fell from your waist and you both took a large step back from each other.

Of fucking _course_ his friend was gorgeous. She looked like a Colombian Cindy Crawford and your eyes darted back and forth between the two of them as she handed him a bottle of beer. A low “thank you Sofia” came tumbling from his mouth as he brought the bottle up and took a large gulp from it.

You felt a cool ripple of panic wash away the hot trail of arousal that had been working its way through your body only moments before. Suddenly aware that there was yet another painfully beautiful human standing in front of you to make a drunken fool of yourself, you realized that you needed to escape their presence immediately. Especially when it became apparent that Javier was in no rush to properly introduce you to Sofia and vice versa.

“Well, I need to find Celia. It was nice seeing you,” you said to Javier before turning your attention towards the gorgeous woman standing next to him. “I really like your dress by the way.” The compliment was true and also necessary. You didn’t want his date to think you were being rude and running off because of her. Even though you were.

Sofia’s face lit up in a breathtaking smile at your words that made your heart ache and she returned your kindness with a sincere thank you in her rich, husky voice.

“Wait,” Javier said, brows furrowed slightly. “I was going to get you a drink.”

“That’s okay,” you said as you began stepping away from the couple. “I think we both know I’ve had enough. Have a good night _Javi_.”

You noticed something flash in his dark eyes at your use of his nickname that made your knees feel weaker than they already did. But you turned and pushed your way through the crowd before you had a chance to actually process what that look might’ve meant.

“Who was that?” Sofia asked him as he watched you all but run away and disappear through the large pulsating crowd. “She seemed nice.”

“She’s a bartender I know down at The Monarch Club.”

“That shit hole bar?” Sofia said with a look of disgust.

“It’s not so bad,” Javier replied while staring down into the opening of his almost empty beer bottle. Jesus, when had he slammed most of it? “I’m pretty sure it’s my favorite shit hole bar in all of Bogotá.”

“I wonder why,” she replied with a perfectly arched brow going up.

Javier merely smacked her ass lightly in response.

* * *

You found Celia outside of the club making out with her friend under its bright neon sign. You told her you were going home for the night, and though she offered to leave with you, you insisted she stay and have fun. Besides, you needed time to process everything that had just happened inside the club with Javier and you didn’t trust yourself to calmly speak of it anytime soon. So you parted ways with Cee promising to call one another in the morning to make sure you both survived the night.

You could’ve hailed a cab, but you figured the 15 minute walk home would clear your head and help you sober up. Plus it was still early enough in the night that plenty of people were walking down the sidewalk on their way out to their own parties and clubs that you felt safe enough to make the trek home by yourself. You wondered as you walked past group after group if anyone else was doomed to make an ass of themselves in front of their crush tonight.

No, you decided. That had definitely been something specially reserved just for you.

The moment you entered your apartment, you all but ripped your shoes off your feet and unzipped your dress in the hallway before your door had even finished closing. You shimmied out of it, and left your dress, shoes, and purse in a small pile on the floor as you shuffled into your kitchen in just your underwear to make yourself a grilled cheese.

While you waited for the pan to heat up, you made a point to drink two large glasses of water and take some ibuprofen in the hopes that you could stave off the potential hangover you were facing before having to open the bar in the morning.

Your mind kept drifting back to your drunken antics at the club, and though some of it was a blur, you couldn’t quite shake the hot twinge of embarrassment that was eating away at you. You replayed everything you had said to Javier in your head over and over again wishing you’d had more self control to shut up. But then again, if you did he never would’ve put his hand on your mouth.

And he had been the one to grab at you first…

Up until now, your touches with him had been minimal, mostly professional; but also innocent and friendly. A casual brush of fingertips as you would hand him a glass, him holding his palm out to put way too much money in your own to pay for his drinks and tip you. Sometimes even forcing your hand to close in a tight fist before he would push it back towards you whenever you tried to give him back the change.

But the feeling of his large hand clutching your waist while the other one covered your soft mouth, as he had all but pressed his entire body against yours in the club had definitely been more than friendly, right? You thought about the way his eyes had narrowed when he felt the tip of your tongue brush against his palm feather light, and then how they had flashed darkly with some unspoken emotion later after you had called him Javi.

He was obviously involved with that Sofia woman in some way. _Very_ casually at least if you knew anything about him, and what a devastatingly beautiful couple they made. Which made every flirtatious conversation you had shared with him at this point that much more bittersweet. Maybe it never really meant anything to him at all, and you were just friends who flirted shamelessly with one another to pass the time. Nothing more, nothing less.

But even so, you wondered if things would’ve been different tonight if you had been behind the bar when he had come in looking for you. If it had been a slow night would he have asked you to come out with him to the club instead of Sofia? You would’ve said yes, and you probably could’ve gotten Emmanuel to stay late for you too. You would’ve gladly taken the gossip and the whispers from the staff in the days that followed if it meant you could’ve spent time with Javier outside of the bar even just this once.

He had probably already left the club by now and was back home with Sofia. You could only imagine the things he must’ve been doing to her at that moment. She was probably pressed up against a wall as his hands trailed along her body pulling her dress down as his mouth worked its way from her neck to her chest…

You hadn’t realized your own hand had reached up and was currently palming your breast through your bra. Your nipples achingly hard as you pictured yourself in Sofia’s place as Javier, no, _Javi_ had his way with you.

You don’t know what possessed you, perhaps it was the residual alcohol that was coursing through your veins, maybe it was just that fact that you hadn’t so much as more than made out with a random stranger or two since you had moved to Bogotá, or maybe it was the fact that the sober part of your mind was finally admitting to itself that you wanted Javi as more than a friend, and you foolishly hoped that maybe he wanted you too. Regardless of what your thought process was, you found yourself turning off the stove and walking over to your couch and sliding your underwear off in one quick motion before lying down with your legs propped up and knees bent.

You trailed your dominant hand down past your navel and through the delicate collection of curls that covered your mound, before gently sliding your fingers through your wet folds as you began to circle your aching clit.

You weren’t surprised to feel that you were already wet, almost embarrassingly so, just like you probably had been ever since he had pressed his face against yours in the club. But instead of dwelling on it you closed your eyes and thought of Javi as you began to touch yourself in earnest.

You pictured him hovering over you on your couch, his black shirt shirt pushed off and on your floor somewhere, his broad shoulders casting a shadow over your smaller frame. Would he smirk down at you while you whimpered begging for him to touch you? _Of course he would,_ you thought. That man would know exactly what to do to drive you positively wild, you were sure of it. After all, Celia’s cousin hadn’t been with him in over a year and yet she still spoke of him as though he were god’s gift.

You grabbed one of your breasts with your free hand and rolled your nipple through the thin fabric of your bra between your fingertips as you imagined it was his own warm hand in place of yours. You were still fairly quiet at that point, but then you pictured his dark voice growling out in your head, demanding that you open your mouth for him so he could shove his fingers in before pulling them out and sliding them into the one place you truly wanted him. You began to moan loudly then.

Your fingers entered your cunt with a precision you didn’t know you were capable of. And though it felt good, it still wasn’t enough. Soon you found yourself clumsily rolling onto your stomach so you could grind your clit against the palm of your hand as you pushed your fingers up against that one spot at the front of your wall as hard as you could. You were sweating at this point, and so, so, so, _so_ close to cumming, but you just needed a little extra push to get there…

 _Cum for me corazón,_ you heard him whispering in your ear as he curled his fingers deeper into you. _Fucking come all over my hand like I know you want to….like the good girl you are…_

And just like that, with one last jerk of your hips and a muffled shout of his name, you came against your palm. Slowly grinding your way through your orgasm until you couldn’t move your lower half anymore and then collapsed weakly on your couch.

You lay there panting softly, feeling the mess between your thighs slowly start to dry. You couldn’t gather enough thoughts to feel even remotely embarrassed over how you had just gotten yourself off to the idea of Javier burying his fingers deep inside of you. Or how you were going to be able to look him in the eyes the next time you saw him at the bar. It had felt too good.

_You shouldn’t get involved with customers, especially someone like him._

Emmanuel’s words echoed through your hazy brain as you slowly came down back to earth.

 _Well,_ you thought as your eyelids grew heavy with exhaustion, _He never said anything about pretending to_. Besides, one’s imagination was often better than the real thing. And as you slipped into unconsciousness on your couch, too spent to bother making yourself food or even move to your bed, your last coherent thought of the evening was that at least you’d be free of Javier in your sleep.

But that night Javi was in every single dream you had. And when you opened your eyes the next morning he was the only thing you could think about.

You were without a doubt, completely _fucked_.


	4. Chapter 4

Before moving to Bogatá you’d never really had a favorite day of the week. Probably because most of your days back home had been devoted to writing papers or trying to power through monotonous school projects that more often than not made your brain feel like mush by the time you had finished them. On the rare days where you were fortunate enough to have completed your work for the week and had nothing else to do, you caught up on sleeping and eating. Being a full time student for so long hadn’t left room for much else. 

But now that that part of your life was behind you, you had more time to fill your days with whatever activities your heart desired. And your favorite day of the week to devote to whatever the hell you wanted was Sunday, and thankfully that day had finally arrived. Even though you had gotten home late from work the night before, you still managed to wake up right at 8:30. After downing half a pot of coffee you got ready for the day by quickly brushing your teeth and throwing on the first clean dress you found, before marching next door to grab Señora Rosa so you could walk down to the farmers market near your apartment building together. 

You spent the next couple of hours meandering up and down the long aisle of stalls while Señora Rosa would happily point out her favorite vendors with what you could only assume was her endearing grandmotherly attempt to make you feel welcomed and at ease in the foreign country you now called your home. Her kindness never ceased to make it feel like a small sun was blooming within your chest whenever you were with her, which was why you always insisted on buying her sunflowers when they were available at the market as a token of appreciation. Señora Rosa’s wrinkled face lit up in delight when you handed her the bouquet of yellow flowers that were almost as tall her, and as she kissed your cheeks in gratitude you found yourself hoping that if you ever lived as long as she had you would try your best to carry as much joy and love in you heart as she did in hers.

Eventually you had to call it quits because the shopping bags you had brought with you were too full to hold anymore food, art, and other little trinkets you had purchased during your trip and you decided to set off for home. The two of you laughing and snacking on fresh fruit the entire time. After helping Señora Rosa carry her bags up the two flights of stairs to your shared floor, you said goodbye to one another, before retreating back into your own apartment to unpack your groceries and spend the rest of the day lounging around.

The one problem with that however, was how much free time it gave your mind to wander. And ever since Friday night it had been wandering quite freely against your will and you had been hyper fixating on one thing in particular…well, one person if you were going to be specific. You shook your head hoping that by doing so his face might tumble from your brain and finally leave you alone. But no matter how hard you tried to focus on anything else, your head was soon swimming with images of Javier again. 

It was infuriating.

It was your own fault really. You had been the one to open the vault that held your feelings for him in your head and let them wash all over you like a high wave crashing along the shore. You had allowed yourself to go from innocently daydreaming about him here and there to full on fantasizing about him and touching yourself while you did it. And it had happened more than once now.

You had woken up hungover on Saturday morning just as you expected, and as you stood up on shaky legs you looked down and noticed you were completely naked from the waist down. The mild panic you felt at the memory of you getting yourself off to the thought of Javier putting his hands on you the night before had been strong enough to briefly overpower your headache. But when you found yourself standing in the shower a few minutes later, the pounding in your head was at full force, and you remembered reading an article in a copy of _Cosmopolitan_ your mother had from your teen years that said having an orgasm could help alleviate migraines. And before you knew it your hand was sliding down between your legs, and you once again found yourself wishing it was Javi who was touching you instead, which quickly turned into imaging him pushing you face first against the shower wall as he took you from behind. You came faster and harder than you anticipated, and you needed to sit down afterwards. You sat under the stream of warm water and wondered how the hell you were going to be able to look Javi in the eyes when you saw him at the bar on Tuesday, knowing you had made yourself cum to the thought of him twice in less than twenty four hours.

The recollection of your recent escapades made your face burn, not out of shame but pure _want_. And God did you want him, so badly it almost hurt. You found yourself tossing the rest of your groceries into your fridge with a little more force than necessary before snapping the door shut and turning to lean against the tiny appliance. It rumbled gently against your back and you tilted your head up to stare at the water stain on your kitchen ceiling. You always thought it looked a little bit like Texas, which you had blurted out to Javier the night he had shared with you that he had been born and raised in the Lone Star state. Your little outburst had caused him to smile at you with a look of charmed amusement that made your heart race. But then again, lately everything he did made it do that.

“And to think Tuesday used to be my second favorite day of the week,” you sighed out to your empty apartment. The silence it answered you with seemed heavy with mockery. 

* * *

You took your time getting to work on Tuesday. Usually your walk to the bar was on the brisker side, but for the first time since you had started working at The Monarch Club you wanted to put off setting foot in the building for as long as you possibly could. You took the long way, knowing it would probably make you a few minutes late for your shift, but Raúl had never been one to harp on the staff for being occasionally tardy. Except for Manny who was notoriously late every single time. 

When you finally rounded the corner that led to the alleyway next to the bar you saw Manny standing near the employee entrance smoking one of his little cigarillos. He greeted you by yelling out “Thank god you’re finally here, I can go home now!” The moment you were within arms reach of him, he pulled you into his bulky chest for one of his notorious bear hugs that often left you feeling slightly winded but also warm and fuzzy.

“Oh _chica_ ,” he said after he finally released you from his grasp. “I haven’t seen you all weekend. Did you enjoy your Friday night off?”

“Yeah I went to that new club that just opened up with my friend Celia,” you said while you straightened out your purple corduroy skirt that had gotten crooked from the impact of Manny’s hug. “It was a lot of fun.”

“Well, while you were out partying your cop boyfriend was in here looking for you that night.” Manny all but sang out while wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. When you didn’t respond to his teasing with your usual annoyed sigh and eye roll, his thick brows stilled before pulling down into a worried frown. 

“Is everything okay with you?”

“Yeah, Manny I’m fine. I just don’t really want to talk about Javier right now.”

“Oh shit, did something finally happen between you two?”

“No Manny, nothing happened between the two of us.”

“Then why does your face look like that?”

His simple question shouldn’t have caused you to react the way you did, but something about hearing him call you out made the dam inside you burst and suddenly you were blabbering all of the thoughts you had kept locked away to yourself all weekend.

“Why does my-Fuck you! Because I like him, alright? I _really_ fucking like him. I know he’s older, and possibly a functioning alcoholic based on how much he drinks when he’s here, and yeah okay he’s pretty much a glorified fucking cop, but he’s also easy for me to talk to. And he actually fucking _listens_ to me when I do. And yeah, sometimes I say stupid shit when he’s around because I don’t feel like I need to constantly edit myself with him, but he never makes me feel bad for it.”

You weren’t sure exactly when you started pacing back and forth like a caged tiger in front of Emmanuel, and he made no mention of it. Instead he just stared at you in shock, cigarillo dangling from the corner of his mouth as you continued your ranting. “And he and I are friends, right? So I probably shouldn’t be thinking about having sex with my friend and getting off to the idea of it. But then he ended up being at the club on Friday night and he kept touching me, and then I fucking _licked_ him?! And now all I can think about is him touching me again and it’s driving me crazy. _He’s_ driving me crazy and I know he’s going to be here tonight and I don’t think I can handle seeing him right now without spontaneously fucking combusting!”

You were too winded to continue your tirade and instead froze in place before bringing your hands up to your face and groaning loudly into your palms. You stood there motionless covering your face waiting for Manny to say something but also hoping he would merely put his cigarillo out and walk away from you. So you couldn’t help but jump when you felt one of his large hands come down on your shoulder and he pulled you to his chest for another hug. Only this time it was gentle, and listening to the strong, steady beat of his heart was oddly calming which made you relax in his embrace.

“I sound like a crazy person don’t I?” You asked against Manny’s chest, while inhaling his cologne. It was sharper and spicier than whatever it was that Javier wore, and you mentally kicked yourself for even bothering to compare the two scents. Manny simply gripped you tighter to him and swayed back and forth like he was trying to placate a toddler before they could catch their second wind and resume their tantrum. 

“Love makes people act crazy,” he murmured somewhere above your head. “You wouldn’t be the first person it’s fucked with like this.”

“I never said I was _in love_ with him,” you grumbled, pulling away from Manny to frown up at him. 

“Neither did I, but you obviously love him a little bit. And there’s nothing wrong with that. If you don’t love your friends, are they really even your people?”

You couldn’t think of anything to say in response to him, so you just buried your face in the front of his black polo shirt and sighed, which made Manny laugh quietly and you whined softly at the sound of it.

“Listen _chica,_ I get why you’re stressed about this. Falling for a friend is intense. On one hand you want them to want you too, but on the other you don’t want to fuck anything up and ruin what you’ve got.”

“So what the fuck should I do about this?”

“Whatever feels right. If you want to try dating him, then go for it. If you want to just bury this shit and stay friends, that’s fine too”

“Based on what I know about him Javier doesn’t exactly seem like the dating type,” you scoffed out. “And I don’t know if this is small enough to bury anymore…”

“Well, I guess that means you’ll just have to fuck him and try the friends with benefits route.”

You pinched Manny’s side at his response and he yelped like a dog before pulling away from you with a hurt expression covering his handsome face. “Hey, I’m trying to help you! Don’t be a fucking brat! Jesus that hurt…”

“I’m sorry, I just…I haven’t really talked to anyone about this yet and I just don’t know what to do about any of it. For all I know he doesn’t even think twice about me.”

“Honey,” Manny laughed while rubbing at his side. “He comes in here every week to see _you_. He’s definitely thinking about you in his own way. So whatever you decide to do, you better do it soon. Make a move, don’t, jump his bones in the bathroom next time he comes in, whatever. But don’t keep yourself trapped in this shitty limbo you’ve made for yourself.”

“What happened to your stance on not getting involved with customers?” You asked with one brow raised skeptically. “I remember just last week you were warning me against it.”

Manny shrugged his shoulders and looked at you with a playful grin. “Eh, I still it’s a stupid idea, but who am I to tell my friends what to do? Besides, sometimes stupid ideas end up making you stupidly happy.”

 _Stupidly happy_. You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt that way about anything or anyone. And yet you found yourself wondering if there was a possibility of experiencing that at all with Javier, in any capacity. Before you could question it anymore, your train of thought was interrupted by the loud _banging_ sound of the employee entrance being kicked open. You and Manny both jerked your heads to see a very irritated Raúl standing in the open door glaring daggers at the two of you.

“ _Emmanuel!_ ” he barked out. “When I said you could go outside for a quick smoke I meant for five minutes, not twenty. Why are you incapable of understanding the basic concept of time?” You laughed at Raúl’s words but the sound died on your lips abruptly when he turned his gaze towards you. “ _Mija_ , you’re half an hour late! I was worried you might have been hurt in that car bombing that happened.”

“Car bombing?” You asked eyes going wide with shock. “What car bombing?”

“It happened earlier this afternoon,” Manny said as he put out what was left of his forgotten cigarillo on the bottom of his brown leather shoe. “They’re not sure if it was Escobar again or someone who just really fucking hates him, but it killed like eight people and injured a bunch of others.”

“Yes, and hardly anyone has been in all afternoon because of it,” Raúl added. “Probably too scared to be on the streets because of those fucking asshole narcos. If it stays this slow you can close the bar early tonight.”

An early night didn’t sound half bad to you, but you wished it wasn’t at the expense of the mindless violence that plagued the entire country. Suddenly you felt shallow for thinking that your problems involving Javier were so devastatingly awful. More people had been murdered in broad daylight on the streets of Bogatá today and you had been too wrapped up in your own drama to notice. 

“ _Mija_ , please come in and get to work,” Raúl called out to you. “And Emmanuel, come inside and get your things and then get the fuck out of here before I fire you.”

“Right, I’m sorry boss,” you said as you jogged through the employee entrance, while Manny followed close behind you. Raúl immediately went into the office and shut the door behind him, leaving you and Manny alone in the hallway. 

“Hey,” you mumbled at him while you shuffled your feet together. “Thank you for listening to me out there. And for…well, being my friend. I really needed one today.”

“Anything for you _chica_ ,” he said as he leaned down to press a quick kiss to the side of your head. “Try not to freak about seeing Javier tonight, okay? He’s just some guy who’s lucky to have someone like you give him the time of day.”

You felt your eyes water slightly at his words, and not trusting your own voice you merely nodded your head at him before turning away to start making you way behind the bar. However a sudden sharp bark of laughter from Manny made you freeze and turn to look back at him with a puzzled look on your face.

“I’m sorry,” he giggled trying to hide his smile behind one of his hands. “It’s just…I just remembered you said you’ve totally been jerking it to the thought of your cop boyfriend fucking you and I think that’s the funniest thing you’ve ever said.”

Manny was too busy laughing to notice you running up towards him until your fist collided with his shoulder. But to your utter frustration the punch only made him laugh at you that much harder.

* * *

Just like Raúl predicted, the bar was dead for most of your shift. In fact you had been so busy standing being bored out of your mind for most of the night that you hadn’t even noticed that the usual time Javier came in had come and gone. And yet he was nowhere to be found. Perhaps the universe was showing you some small amount of mercy, you thought.

Raúl phoned at 11:00 to ask how the night had been, and when you told him you had served a whopping total of five guests all night, including the middle aged woman who was currently finishing her third glass of wine at the bar, he responded with a sigh and an apology for how slow it had been and told you to close it down once she left. And to your immense delight he also told you to help yourself to whatever you wanted while closing to make up for all the money you hadn’t made. The woman ended up ordering another glass of wine which didn’t bother you, another round meant a higher tip and she was an easy guest who didn’t require much conversation so you were able to catch up on some organizing behind the bar. 

She cashed out nearly thirty minutes later and you both wished each other a safe night before she left. You glanced up at the clock behind the bar noticing that it was only 11:45 pm which meant that for the first time ever you would actually be able to leave work well before 1:00 am. You were almost euphoric at the thought and decided to quickly clear her empty wine glass and wipe down the bar before locking the front door. 

After you finished cleaning the bar rail you knelt down to where your purse was sitting so you could start digging out your keys to the bar, cursing under your breath the entire time. You were still fumbling around in your bag trying to find them when you heard someone pull out a bar stool. Panicked, you shot up at the sound and frantically yelled out “I’m sorry, but we’re actually closed-”

Javier obviously hadn’t been expecting you to say that, because he froze in place at your words just as he began sitting down at the exact same time you had stopped speaking at the sight of him. 

“Shit, I’m sorry I thought you were open until two tonight,” he said as he glanced down at his watch before shaking his wrist like he was checking to see if it were broken.

“Javi, How the fuck do you always manage to sneak in here?”

“DEA agent remember? Being stealthy is part of the job description.”

“That and being a snarky asshole apparently.”

“I’m starting to get the feeling you might actually hate me.”

 _No,_ you thought. _Far from it actually. What I **do** hate is that I can’t stop imagining what your hands would feel like on my-_

Woah, easy girl.

“It’s been really slow here all day,” you said, unable to look away from his dark brown eyes. You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed their warm gaze until now. “So Raúl said I could close early tonight.”

He made a face almost like he was unsure of himself, before bringing his thumb up to his top lip and running it across his mustache. The movement seemed almost…nervous. Which was a side of himself he had never shown you before.

“Oh, well. I guess I’ll just let myself out then.”

“No! Don’t go!” You all but shouted directly in his face. Why was it that you had spent the past few days working yourself up into a frenzy over the thought of seeing him again, but now that he was finally in front of you, you couldn’t bear the thought of him being anywhere else? “I mean, you can stay and have a few drinks. I still have some stuff to do and I could use the company. We can catch up since we haven’t seen each other since the club the other night.”

_The other night where I got off to the thought of you. The first time._

“Are you sure _corazón_?” He asked, still stuck in his pose of half standing, half crouching over the bar stool. “I don’t want to keep you here if you’re trying to go home.”

“Really, it’s fine Javier. I want you to stay. Please?”

He smirked at you and nodded before allowing himself to finish sitting down in front of you. He reached into the pocket of his tan jacket and pulled out his usual pack of cigarettes and placed one in his mouth.

“Well, since you asked me nicely.” 

Something about the way he said those words made you shiver, and you knew that if you were going to survive spending time with him you were going to have to distance yourself from him just a little bit so you could gather your thoughts. You grabbed him a rocks glass and a bottle of whiskey from the shelf not even bothering to look at which one it was before setting them both down in front of him along with an ashtray. 

“Do you think you can handle pouring your own drinks for a while so I can focus on my closing duties?”

He picked up the bottle of whiskey and stared at it with an impressed look on his face. You had definitely grabbed one of the higher end bottles, but you didn’t care and neither did he. 

“If you’re sure you won’t get in trouble with Raúl over it, I think I can manage.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t.” 

“Deal,” he replied before opening the bottle and pouring the dark amber liquid into his glass. He raised his drink to you in a mock cheers before giving you a wink and taking a sip. You couldn’t help but stare at the way his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed his whiskey and you wondered if maybe you had made a mistake in asking him to stay.

The reality of the situation set in and you became painfully aware that your worst nightmare and deepest fantasy had come true.

You were all alone with Javi.

No Raúl. No customers frantically clambering for your attention. No Sofia. No dancing strangers crashing into the two of you. No Manny or Celia to merciless taunt you over your bar crush.

Just you.

And him.

_Fuck._

* * *

Thankfully Javier was surprisingly well behaved as you worked your way through cleaning the bar. He told you that the reason he had been late coming in was because he’d been on a stakeout for most of the morning, and then the car bombing happened and he had to spend the rest of his day dealing with that. He didn’t bring up the night at the club, or what he had done after you left, and you were thankful for that. You figured he had spent the night with Sofia, but you didn’t want to ask him about it or her. He didn’t seem too keen on bringing anything up about that night either.

Your nerves were mostly under control while you listened to him talk about his day. He would flash you a smile every once in a while that made your heart skip a beat, but it wasn’t as bad as you had worried it would be. In fact you were mentally kicking yourself for having almost given yourself a stroke earlier in the day while you had been ranting and raving about Jaiver in the alley with Manny. 

Before you knew it, you had finished everything you needed to do. And when Javier broke out his wallet to pay for his drinks you shrugged him off and told him not to worry about it. 

“You never struck me as the type of person to steal from your job _corazón_ ,” he teased. You merely stuck your tongue out at him before stretching your arms up with a low groan in an attempt to crack your sore back. Your black top riding up ever slightly as you did so, and if your eyes had been opened you would’ve noticed Javier staring intently at the patch of exposed skin on your stomach before your arms fell back down to your sides and your shirt went back to covering you again.

“Well, I’m done with everything now,” you said, still oblivious to his eyes that were trained on your abdomen. “But you can stay for a little bit longer if you want to.”

You looked at him not sure of what his answer would be, but instead of saying anything he placed his cigarette in the ashtray next to him and then he reached over across the bar where he knew the rocks glasses were stored and set one down next to his. 

“I’ll stay on one condition,” he said as he grabbed the bottle of whiskey you’d set out for him earlier. Before you knew it he was pouring some of it into the empty glass until it was a little less than half way full. 

“And what condition would that be?” You asked as you bit your bottom lip, already knowing where this was going. 

He set the bottle back down on the bar, and then he pulled out the stool to his right and stared at you expectantly as he picked his cigarette back up and took a drag from it, his eyes never once leaving your face. 

“You have a drink with me,” he said through a small cloud of smoke. “After all, I still owe you one.”

You didn’t think twice before answering him.

“Sure.”

_Double fuck._

* * *

The conversation and whiskey flowed easily between the two of you. You were positive that you had never actually heard Javi speak as much as he was as you both sat with your chairs turned so you could face each other while talking so you wouldn’t have to strain your necks. Usually you were the one who took the lead in the majority of your conversations, but this time he was in control and you didn’t mind one bit. 

“Wait, so you’re telling me they sent you into a building to get _shot_.”

Javi was in the middle of telling you about his time training in Quantico. He and a small group of his fellow recruits had been tasked with an exercise to storm a warehouse and perform a drug bust. But unknown to all of them, the warehouse was filled with fake drug dealers whose sole purpose of being in the building was to shoot at Javier and the other agents in training.

“Fake shot, _corazón_ , with rubber bullets. I was still training. They weren’t actively trying to kill me, just scare the shit out of me.”

“So did you go in?”

“I had no fucking choice! It was either go in or fail that portion of the training and I didn’t want to drag it out any longer than the eighteen weeks I had to be there.”

You poured the two of you another round while he broke out another cigarette, and you wondered if he was stress smoking at the memory of it. “So…did you end up getting shot at?”

“Yeah,” he said with a snort. “I was shot at so many times that morning I thought I was going to have a fucking heart attack.”

“Does getting hit with a rubber bullet hurt?” you asked, feeling genuinely curious at what his answer would be. The withering stare he gave you made you smile into your glass. “Okay, I admit that was a stupid question. At least it’s probably less painful than getting shot with a real one.”

“It definitely hurts less, but it’s still pretty close depending on where it hits you.”

“Wait, have you been shot before?”

Javier reached over and pulled up the right sleeve of his dark blue shirt with his left hand to show you a painful looking scar on the side of his arm. Your eyes widened at the sight and you bit back a gasp.

“Some _sicario_ got the drop on me a few months ago,” he said before he pulled his sleeve back down. “Fucker grazed my arm.”

You resisted the urge to reach out and slide your fingers under his shirt and gently trace them along the raised skin where the bullet had struck his beautiful olive skin. In an effort to keep your hands to yourself you settled for asking him more about the shooting. Something that would undoubtedly be the exact opposite of sexy to hear him talk about.

“What happened to him?”

“Who?”

“The guy…the one who shot you.”

“I shot him back,” he said while he puffed on his cigarette. “But my bullet did more than graze him.”

“Oh, so you mean that he’s-”

“Dead? Yeah, I killed him.”

Javi admitting to you that he had killed someone shouldn’t have surprised you as much as it did. But there was something about the way he said it..his voice was so calm. Almost eerie, like it wasn’t him saying it. Maybe it wasn’t him, you thought. Maybe it was that part of him that you had seen glimpses of over the months you had known him, the part that he would let take over his mind and his body so he wouldn’t actually have to process just how _fucked up_ his job could be. 

You wondered if it was his first. Probably not you decided, and definitely not his last. You realized with a hollow feeling in your stomach that Javier’s job was much more than just rooftop chases, plotting week long stakeouts, and fighting his way through Bureaucratic red tape. It was bloody and violent, kill or be killed, and far more dangerous than anything you would probably ever know in this life or the next. You didn’t envy him in the slightest.

“I’m sorry Javi, I know you don’t like talking about work. We can talk about something else if you want to.”

“It’s fine.”

 _That was a surprise._

Javi had told you weeks ago that he wanted to keep that part of his life separate from this place. From you. What could’ve possibly changed his mind about sharing those parts of himself? Was he drunk?

“Are you sure?” You asked, not wanting him to feel like you were pressuring him into doing something he didn’t want to. Even though you knew deep down that Javier Peña was rarely one to to be pressured into doing something he didn’t want to do.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” he answered before putting out his cigarette. He leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his dark hair, the action causing a few strands to fall forward over his forehead. “It’s been brought to my attention that I need to work on being more open.”

“Who told you that?”

“Murphy.”

“Who the hell is Murphy?”

“My partner.”

“The hillbilly’s name is _Murphy!?_ ” you said much louder than you intended. 

Javier made a sound between a laugh and a cough, and you were worried he was choking on the air with the way he started wheezing out his laughter behind his hand.

“Fuck, I forgot I called him that in front of you.” 

“So what’s Murphy like?” You were eager to keep the conversation flowing and let him talk to you about work so you could learn more about him. The fact that he was willingly being so forthcoming about it for once made you smile. 

“Well, _Steve_ Murphy is a good old fashioned all American boy. He’s been with the agency for about nine years now, so he’s not that bad at his job. He and his wife moved down here a few years ago from Miami. She’s an angel of a woman, and too good for him in my opinion but he’s lucky she hasn’t realized that yet. He might actually be the only other person alive who smokes more than me. He also really likes cats, though I have no idea why. And he’s a fucking hillbilly, but you already knew that part.”

“Wow,” you snorted. “You seem like you really like the guy.”

“He’s my best friend,” Javi said as he took another sip of his whiskey.

“If that’s how you talk about your _best_ friend I don’t think I wanna know what you say about me.” 

“What do you think I say about you?”

“Oh I don’t know, probably that I’m just some idiot college dropout who talks too much and moved to Bogotá on a whim because she was having a pre-mid life crisis and decided that getting a job working at a shitty dive bar would somehow help matters.”

“That’s actually really close to what I say about you.”

“Oh fuck you, Javier.”

“It would’ve been spot on,” he continued as he swirled the whiskey around in his glass. “If you had replaced ‘idiot’ with ‘pretty’. Or if you had put ‘pretty’ in front of ‘idiot’ that would’ve worked too I guess. ”

_…Pretty._

Did Javier actually just say he thought you were pretty? _Twice?_ Sure the second time he had also said you were an idiot, but you weren’t going to argue with him on that point. Holy fuck maybe you were the drunk one. 

But there was something about the way he was smiling at you knowing that he’d successfully rendered you speechless that made you think he actually might have fucking meant it. For all his teasing, Javier rarely said things he didn’t mean. He didn’t have the time to waste on that. You blinked dumbly at him and cleared your throat.

“Thank you?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone say ‘thank you’ with so much uncertainty. You don’t take compliments well do you _corazón_?”

You shuddered involuntarily at his use of your nickname, and unfortunately he noticed. He leaned forward and placed his hand on your forearm before slowly moving it up and down like he was trying to generate friction to warm you. Despite the fact you two had been sitting directly beneath an air vent for the past couple of hours you’d never felt hotter. 

“Are you cold?”

“No, I’m just…It’s nothing.”

“You’re just what? Come on _I’m_ being open right now, it’s only fair you do it too.”

_Nothing about you is fair Javi._

“ _Corazón,_ ” you say quietly. “You calling me that, it-”

“Do you not like it?” He interrupted as his hand ceased its movements along your arm. 

“Yeah,I like it. It’s a nice nickname I suppose. And don’t interrupt me you jerk.”

“Oh, you _suppose_ it’s a nice nickname. Would you rather I called you something else?”

_Yes, good girl would also be acceptable._

“No… I want you to keep calling me that.” You felt bolder than you normally would, and you knew it had nothing to do with the whiskey you’d been drinking. You wondered if it was because you were trying to match his own fiery energy and for once it felt like you were succeeding. You weren’t hiding your face from him and you were returning his verbal jabs with your own with a much more even footing than you normally did. But most importantly for once you weren’t letting him get under your skin, even though you wanted him to be as close as possible to you always. “I like the way…well, I like the way you say it.”

“You like the way I say it?” 

“Are you just going to keep repeating everything I say back to me like an asshole?” 

“Yes, I think I will **_corazón_**.” He said, his accent strong and thick as his voice and tongue cradled the nickname for you in his mouth before it slipped out from between his pouty lips. You wanted to hit him and he seemed to sense it because he pulled his hand off of your arm and leaned back into his chair away from you.

“I never should’ve told you that.”

“What else do you like to hear me say?”

“ _Javi!_ ” you groaned out in an exasperated tone. Why did you have to be so enamored with someone who was so frustratingly obnoxious. And he did it on purpose too.

“I like it when you call me that,” he said nonchalantly.

“What, Javi?” you asked him with your eyes narrowed at him suspiciously. 

“Yes. I like the way you say it too.”

“Now you’re just being a dick to tease me.”

“A little bit. But I can’t help myself sometimes when I’m around you. There, that’s two things I’ve just admitted to you. Now tell me something else so we’ll be even.” 

“I wasn’t aware we were playing a game,” you shot back with an annoyed laugh.

Javi raised a brow at you and studied you in silence for a few moments. But then he opened his mouth and the words that came out were low and dark, and left no room for argument.

“ _Corazón_ , you and I both know we’ve been playing with each other since the first time I sat down at your bar. You’re a pretty little idiot sometimes, but don’t play fucking dumb with me.” 

The air felt heavier, and there was a shift in the energy of the room. Javier sat across from you, arms folded, staring at you like he was almost like he was daring you to challenge what he had just said. There were so many unspoken things between the two of you, and sometimes you worried that maybe you had been projecting your own thoughts and feelings onto him, but now, now it was obvious that Javi had been noticing it too and he wanted you to own up to it like he just had.

“Fine,” you relented. “I’ll play along.” If there was ever a time to admit the things you thought about him, or list off the parts of him you really liked it had to be now. Your eyes fell from his and settled on his beautifully long neck, dragging your gaze down to where it met his chest, the dark blue button down partially undone like always and showing off his tan skin. You could see the edge of his collarbone peeking out and it looked so deep, but you forced your eyes lower until they reached his arms that were still tightly crossed over his chest. You licked your lips. “I…I think you have really nice hands.”

The smile he flashed at you was positively wolfish, and you found it to somehow be the most infuriatingly sexy thing you had ever seen.

“You think my hands are nice?”

“That’s it you asshole, I’m cutting you off!” You raised yourself up from your seat to grab the whiskey bottle, but Javi was quicker. His arms uncrossed from his chest in a blur and his right hand fell down and landed on top of your bare thigh, just below the bottom edge of your skirt, his fingers digging ever so slightly into the soft flesh as he held you in place so you couldn’t stand up to your full height.

“I’m sorry if I’m annoying you, just say the words and I’ll stop.”

Your leg muscle flexed under his palm as you stared down at him. You didn’t even dare to blink, and before you knew it your body was sinking back into your chair slowly until your bottom was rested firmly on the black leather again. His hand never left your thigh, and you were suddenly hyper aware of how hard your heart was beating.

“Your turn,” you finally said. 

He raised an eyebrow at you again. 

“Unless you don’t want to play the game anymore?”

“No I do. Do you?”

You nodded with a gulp not trusting your own voice.

He looked down and you thought that maybe he was collecting his thoughts trying to think of the most annoying thing he could say to piss you off some more. That was until you realized he was actually staring at his hand that had started caressing your leg. 

“I…like touching you,” he said. “You’re always so…soft.” His thumb began rubbing small circles along the edge of your knee, his eyes following its every movement almost like he couldn’t believe you were actually allowing his hand to do whatever it wanted to you. “I think about touching you a lot.” That last part he said under his breath so quietly it was almost like he was admitting a secret out loud to himself.

The blood that was pounding through your ears was deafening. In fact it was so loud you could barely hear your own voice as it whispered back to him.

“I think about you touching me too.”

His head jerked up from where his hand rested on your leg was and he looked you in the eyes with an expression you could only describe as raw hunger. It was a look you had seen in many of your dreams and fantasies over the past few days. And only once before in person: that night at the club.

“Where?”

His voice had never sounded so low and you shivered at the word. It took every ounce of willpower to not moan at the sound of it. His hand tightened its grip on your thigh. Its touch was rougher and almost painful but in the best possible way and a part of you wanted him to add more pressure.

“ _Where,_ ” he demanded again and you were convinced you probably could have kept from moaning yet again, but the fact that he all but growled out your _actual_ name afterwards shredded through your already nonexistent self control and the sound slipped its way through your lips before you had the chance to stop it. You hadn’t heard him say your real name since you first introduced yourself to him at the bar all those weeks ago. Or had it been months and months? You had no idea anymore when you had actually met him, because now you couldn’t imagine a time in your life when Javier fucking Peña hadn’t been there.

“Everywhere,” you gasped out. “I think about your hands, your mouth, just fuck…touching me all over. My thighs, my neck, my chest, my lips…” the words tumbled out of you in a breathless mess and you didn’t think you could stop them even if you wanted to. “And..Mm-my…my…”

“Your pussy?”

_Fuck, fuck, fuck,_ **_fuck._ **

You hadn’t even noticed that he had started to lean in closer to you, his beautiful face inches from your own. His hand crept up so that his fingers were now hidden underneath the thick fabric of your skirt and they lightly traced against the crease where your leg met your pelvis right along the edge of your underwear. He already knew your answer.

“ _Javi…_ ” his name escaped your mouth in a soft whine and you felt a surge of electricity jolt through the length of your spine all the way down to your core, and you could tell you were positively soaked. The feeling made you want to stand up, but his steady hand kept you in place and you found yourself leaning closer towards him as well.

“Yes, especially there.”

“Do you want me to touch you there right now?” He asked while pressing his forehead against yours gently. His warm breath ghosting across your lips, and you’re pretty sure yours would’ve been doing the same to his if you could only remember how to breathe.

_Oh god was this really happening?_

He murmured your name under his breath, and his free hand reached up to brush a strand of hair out of your face before he tucked it behind your ear, letting his hand come to rest at the base of your skull afterwards, his long fingers curling around the back of your neck holding your head in place.

It was hard to focus on his face with it being so close to your own, but you could tell that his eyes were staring down at your lips as he waited patiently for your answer, and you felt your tongue dart out to moisten them.

“Yes.”

How such a small word could hold so much power was a mystery to you. But the moment you said it you knew everything would be different between the two of you, and you would never be able to go back to the way things were. You had effectively destroyed the only versions of yourselves you had known up until now, leaving nothing but an open void of uncertainty in front of you.

You didn’t give a flying _fuck_.

“Then ask me nicely, _corazón._ ”

_Nicely?_

You could be nice. God, You couldn’t wait to show him just how fucking nice you could actually be. You’d be sickly sweet for him, your begging for him would be polite, and sincere. You would ooze kindness like honey dripping straight from the hive until he was positively drowning in it, drowning in you. Just like you had been drowning in him. 

So you did the nicest thing you could think of to do at that moment.

You leaned forward and you kissed him.


	5. Chapter 5

Javier’s lips were just as soft as you had imagined they’d be. They were also frightfully unresponsive against yours, and for the briefest of moments you worried that kissing him might’ve been a mistake. You began to pull back from him and just before you had a chance to offer an insincere apology for your actions, the hand that was still gripping the back of your neck tugged you forward again just as Javi rasped out “Oh no you don’t.”

And then his mouth reconnected with yours and the way it began moving against your own made you all but melt into him. This kiss was sinful and bruising and everything you had wanted and more, and when his velvety soft tongue darted out from between his plush lips and dragged across your bottom one, your mouth immediately fell open to permit its entrance.

He groaned low in his throat the moment your tongues made contact with one another, and the sound vibrated through your chest. He licked his way into your mouth and explored every surface it could touch greedily and you happily let him. The overwhelming taste of whiskey, cigarettes, and something uniquely him made your cunt spasm almost painfully, and as much as you appreciated the attention Javier was paying to your mouth, you needed more. 

Your hands shot up to tug through his thick hair which only made his own grip on you tighten as he pulled you closer to him but it still wasn’t enough. The wet ache between your legs was overwhelming and you needed him to touch you where you’d ask him to before you lost your god damn mind.

You placed your hands on his shoulders while bracing your feet on the footrest of the bar stool as you pushed yourself up from the worn black leather of your seat breaking the kiss, much to Javier’s annoyance.

“C _orazón_ ,” he huffed as he watched your clumsy movements with dark glossy eyes, his lips wet and puffy from being pressed against yours for so long. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you said as you tried to awkwardly straddle his lap, though you were both too close to one another to maneuver yourself properly over him. You successfully swung one leg over his thigh before deciding that was good enough for what you wanted, and you allowed yourself to sink down on his thick leg with a content sigh. The feeling of his rough jeans pressing against your soaked and aching core sent ripples of relief through your body. 

Javier’s long arms snaked around your waist and held you in place as he flexed his muscular thigh underneath you with a knowing smirk. 

“Is this what you needed, _corazón_?” he murmured as he brought his lips to your collarbone and began sucking a dark bruise along your skin. “For me to touch you there?”

“Oh don’t be an asshole,” you groaned out as you began grinding your hips against his leg the best you could at your less than desirable angle. Though the friction of your jerky movements was the only thing keeping you sane. “You already know I do.”

“Then let me fucking touch you the way you want me to,” he whispered darkly against your bruised skin.

Javier stood up from his seat causing you to slide off of his thigh with a gasp from both the sudden shift of movement and the feeling of his jeans rubbing harshly against your throbbing clit. With shaky legs you stood in front of him and he gripped your waist and pulled you forward so you were pressed flush against his long and warm body. You could feel the bulge of his erection through the thick fabric of his jeans and without even thinking about it you shimmied your hand between the two of you and began palming him softly. He groaned at your touch and his own hand dropped down from your waist and over the curve of your ass as he kneaded your soft flesh. His touch was rougher than yours but it didn’t matter, not with the way he was looking at you.

“I need you to move _corazón_ ,” he said as he began to push you backwards, but your feet remained firmly planted on the ground as you continued to gently squeeze the outline of his cock. 

“I’m fine right here,” you replied with a sly smile before tilting your head up to capture his bottom lip between your teeth. You pulled at it every so slightly before releasing it with a soft laugh that quickly turned into a gasp when his hand shot up and wrapped around your throat.

“I said, _you need to **move**_ _corazón_ ,” he growled out as he began to push you away in earnest from the bar rail, his hand never leaving your neck as he guided you towards the back of the room. His grip on you wasn’t tight enough to hurt you, but it was forceful enough to make the wetness between your legs become that much more noticeable. It wasn’t until the back of your thighs hit the pool table that you realized what Javier’s intentions were.

His hand slid up your neck until it was just under your chin and he tilted your head up so you were looking into his eyes.

“Are you actually going to listen to me now, or no?”

“Yes Javi,” you sighed as you leaned into his touch, silently letting him know that you didn’t mind the way his long fingers felt as they held you in place, and that you wanted more if he’d be willing to give it. “I’ll listen to you.”

“Then get on the table for me baby,” he said while giving your throat a gentle squeeze before releasing you from his grasp.

You didn’t need to be told twice, and he even helped you hoist yourself up with the aid of his large hands wrapping around your waist as he lifted you so that you were perched perfectly on the edge of the pool table. Javier pushed your skirt up until it was bunched around your waist before reaching down to hook his fingers along the top of your panties. His dark eyes searched your face for any sign that it was all too much in case you wanted him to stop, instead your own hands landed on top of his and you leaned forward to kiss him again as you whispered “Do it.”

In one swift movement Javi pulled your underwear down the expanse of your legs letting them fall to the floor, and the cold air of the bar met your hot, wet center causing you to snap your legs shut at the sensation. But Javier’s hand once again wrapped around one of your thighs and held you firmly in place.

“You need to keep them open,” he said softly as his thumb rubbed reassuring circles along your leg. “I want to see all of you.”

With a sigh you leaned back on the table so you were resting on your elbows and you brought your legs up so that your knees were bent before letting your legs fall open as wide as they could go leaving you spread out for Javier to look at you just like he wanted. He wasted no time stepping between your parted thighs and cursed under his breath at the sight of your dripping cunt as he leisurely dragged his right hand between your legs, letting his fingertips softly graze along your wet folds.

“Javi,” you whined out. “Don’t be a tease.”

“I thought you liked it when I teased you,” he responded with the same wolfish grin he had flashed your way earlier in the night, his fingers still pressed lightly against your entrance, their gentle touch almost painful from the lack of pressure he wasn’t applying. It was absolute torture and if you weren’t so desperately needy for him you would’ve started arguing with him.

“ _Javier,_ ” his name came out of your mouth in a broken plea. You’d never been one to beg for anything from a man before in your life, but of course Javi was the first -and hopefully only- one to make you do it. “Please, just fucking touch me already you son of a- _oh fuuuuuuuuck_.”

“Like this _corazón_?” he all but cooed at you as he suddenly slid two fingers into you while curling them against the front of your wall touching the part of you that made a white hot heat erupt in your belly. “All you had to do was ask me nicely.”

“Oh, go, mmmm, f-fu-fuck yourself, Javiiii…” you moaned out as your head rolled back and he began steadily pumping his thick fingers in and out of you. He chuckled at your words and continued his motions before sliding his free hand up your shirt to roll your hardened nipple between his thumb and his index finger. The sharp yet pleasurable sting of his hand on your breast paired with the fullness of his fingers being buried so deeply within you made your heart race, and you felt your walls begin to tighten as the familiar signs of an orgasm approaching began to overtake you.

“Javi, I-oh fuck. I’m close…” you whimpered out as your legs began to shake.

“Come for me, _corazón_ ,” He said as he brought his thumb down against your clit and began rubbing quick circles against you. “I want to feel you come all over my hand, can you do that for me baby? Fuck, I know you can…”

Actually hearing him demand that you come for him instead of just imagining it sent you over the edge, and with a sharp cry you did exactly what he asked.You felt yourself tighten around his thick fingers as wave after wave of euphoria washed over your body. The blood that pounded in your ears was so loud you almost didn’t hear Javi’s soft words of encouragement.

“Good girl _corazón_ , just like that…”

Javier continued lazily pumping his fingers in and out of you as you rode out the last few hazy moments of your orgasm before pulling them out of your spent cunt. Through heavy lids you watched as he brought them up to his lips and into his mouth as he sucked your juices off of them with a low groan. The sight of it made you pulse with want again and a whine escaped your throat.

His closed eyes snapped open at the sound of you whimpering. They were blacker and hungrier than you’d ever seen them, and you were suddenly reminded of the fairy tales of your youth about a big bad wolf showing up in the night to blow down houses and destroy everything good and pure. And in that moment you realized he could absolutely destroy you if he wanted to, and not only would you let him, but you’d beg him and thank him for it at the same time.

Javi’s eyes never left yours as he finished cleaning the last of you from his fingers before removing them from his mouth with a soft _pop_ and then he let his hand drop down towards his waist. It wasn’t until you heard the sound of his belt buckle clanking against itself that you finally looked down and realized he was starting to open his impossibly tight jeans and, _oh fuck,_ the trail of dark hair that suddenly appeared made your mouth drop open in a silent moan. But it was the moment he finally freed his cock that made you sag slightly on the pool table and actually groan at the sight of it.

A few beads of precum rested on the tip of his thick cock and as much as you wanted to reach over and trace your finger along the slit to gather them and bring up to your mouth for a taste, you knew that now wasn’t the time. Not with the way Javi shuffled up to you with his right hand wrapped tightly around the base of himself as he pushed it down slightly so that his head was lightly pressed against your entrance. 

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

You nodded your head frantically as you shifted your hips towards him in the hopes he would push into you, finally giving you both what you so desperately needed. 

“I need to hear you say it, _corazón_.”

For once he wasn’t prolonging the inevitable for the sake of riling you up. There was no hint of teasing in his low gravelly tone, only dark want mixed with need. But underneath it was the voice of a man who more than anything was asking for your permission to _finally_ let him have you in the one way he had been dying to know you for far longer than he could stand it. 

“Yes Javi,” you said as you brought a hand up to his face and ran your fingers along his warm cheek “I want you to fuck me.”

It only took him a few seconds to fully process your words, and then he was pushing his hips forward and allowing the head of his cock to slide past your swollen lips, and you let out a deep, shuddery breath as you felt him start to break you open. 

He took his time easing into you, almost like he was savoring the feel of every inch of himself slowly disappearing into your tight, wet cunt, and when he finally bottomed out with a low moan of your name, your eyes rolled back into your head. His thickness stretched you out in a way that made you feel heavy with want as you felt yourself adjust to the feeling of him inside you. He didn’t move at first, instead he just stood there between your legs, hands anchoring you down by your hips so you were pinned firmly against the pool table. His eyes half shut and his mouth parted as he stared at where your bodies were connected just feeling you flutter around him. 

“Jesus _Chriiiiist_ ,” He gritted out through his teeth before pulling his hips back so that his cock was still barely resting inside of you before he slammed himself back in all the way.

“You feel so much better than I ever imagined…so fucking wet and tight, like you were fucking made for me…”

“Fuck Javi,” you cried out as he continued the bruising pace he had set of fucking himself into you with those long and rough strokes. The empty bar echoed loudly with the wet sounds of him moving in and out of you, and your hands blindly reached for any part of him you could grab while your head was thrown back against the table. When your fingers found the front of his shirt they clawed into the dark blue fabric in tightly clenched fists that made your knuckles hurt. 

“Wanted you for _so long_ baby,” He panted from somewhere above you, his voice tight and low in his chest. “Wanted to fuck this sweet little pussy for months now. Wanted to take you home with me that night at the club. _Fuck_ , make you come on my cock over and over again until you couldn’t anymore, and then I’d make you do it again with my tongue…”

Javier’s words ripped through you with a force that knocked the very breath out of you and made you pulse around him. Just when you thought it couldn’t possibly feel any better than it already did, he hooked his arms underneath your knees and pulled you closer to him, so he could thrust deeply into you with more quick, controlled strokes. He was barely even pulling out of your cunt anymore, he just kept dragging the head of his cock over that sweet spot inside of you over and over again making you see stars behind your closed eyes.

“Can’t wait to get my mouth on your pretty little clit next time and taste you, _corazón_ …” he groaned out over the loud slapping sound of his skin hitting against yours. “Gonna make you feel so good baby. So. fucking. _good_ …”

“Oh god,” you sobbed out, as you allowed yourself to become overwhelmed by Javier truly and completely. Every single fantasy you’d had of him paled in comparison to the real thing, he was unapologetically filthy and you loved every second of it. Hearing him say all of the things he had wanted to do to you, all of the things he still _planned_ on doing, made you feel like an electric current was flowing through your entire body, and you knew that you were seconds away from coming yet again.

He felt you start to clamp down tightly around his cock and once again brought his hand up to your clit and rubbed tight little circles against your swollen nub with an expert touch like he had known your body for years.

“Javi- fuck just like that, just like- please don’t stop. _Don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop-_ ” 

And then your back was arching up from the pool table, as your orgasm tore through you from head to toe and you actually fucking _wailed_. Your lower half locked tightly around him like a vice, and your nails dug so deeply into Javier’s shoulders that he let out a loud hiss of pain. Though it didn’t stop him from groaning out his praises to you as he continued to fuck you through your climax, his pace never once faltering.

“Fuck baby, that’s right, just like that. You look so fucking pretty coming for me…such a good girl…”

As the last few aftershocks rolled through your body, you felt a different kind of ache between your thighs that you quickly realized was from over stimulation. You let one of your hands fall from Javi’s broad shoulders to pull his hand away from your tender clit and brought it back up to your throat. Javier’s hips briefly faltered at the action, before they began to move again as his fingers curled around your neck. His pace became sloppy and he frantically rutted into you once, twice, and then for a third and final time, before pulling out of you and wrapping his free hand around his cock as he came with a growl, thick ropes of hot cum shooting onto your thighs and the front of your cunt.

You stared up at the large ceiling fan that spun around in a blurry circle above your head with a dazed expression. The only sounds in the room were your own labored breathing and the slick sound of Javier’s hand moving up and down his length to milk the last few drops of himself from his softening cock. You went limp against the table and barely even noticed his hand leave your throat as your eyes fluttered shut.

Eventually you heard a zipper being pulled up and the sound of Javier’s belt being fastened, and then his heavy footsteps walking away from the pool table and back towards the bar. You were too tired and still trembling slightly from your orgasm to sit up and watch whatever he was doing, though you briefly heard water running from the sink behind the bar. Instead you lazily draped an arm over your eyes as you waited for your heart rate to return to normal. 

The sudden feeling of something wet making contact with your sticky thighs startled you. You pulled your arm away from your face and carefully lifted your head up from the table to see Javier standing by your legs looking positively fucked out of his mind. His dark hair was messy and sweaty, and his blue shirt still untucked from his jeans and almost comically wrinkled from the death grip you’d had it in moments before. You could only imagine what you must’ve looked like, and found yourself very thankful that Raúl had gotten rid of the mirrored ceiling that used to be in the bar the year before you had shown up in Bogatá.

You glanced down at Javier’s hand and noticed that the wetness you had felt was from a damp rag that he must’ve grabbed from behind the bar that he was using to gently wipe up the mess he’d left on your body. 

“That better be from the clean pile,” you said as you watched him switch to the other leg as he continued cleaning you off with an unexpected tenderness. 

“Don’t worry, I grabbed it from the bin on the right,” he said with a chuckle as he finished before pulling your skirt back down to cover you up. Though afterwards a slight look of panic overwhelmed his features as he stared at the soiled rag in his hand suddenly unsure of what he was supposed to do with it. You couldn’t help but snort at his hopeless expression.

“Just toss it in the trash can by the jukebox,” you said, taking pity on him before letting your head rest against the pool table again as you shut your eyes. “It’s forever unclean now.”

“Yeah, well at least you aren’t anymore,” Javi called out over his shoulder as he dumped the rag into the garbage. 

_Actually, I feel dirty in the best possible way…_

The pool table groaned and shifted under you as you felt Javier sit down near your head and you heard him click his lighter open. The smell of cigarette smoke wafted through the air mixing with the scent of sweat and sex. You found it oddly comforting, almost as comforting as the hand that was suddenly brushing sweaty strands of hair from your face. A sense of peace and calm flowed through you that had nothing to do with basking in the afterglow, and you couldn’t help but smile. 

“Are you okay _corazón_?”

“Yeah, never better.”

“Are you sure? You haven’t gotten up yet.”

“That’s because I can’t feel my legs.”

“Oh really?” he asked with a hint of smugness in his voice.

“Don’t let it get to your head,” you huffed out while opening one eye to peek at him through your lashes. “It’s probably from my circulation being cut off from you almost folding me in half on this pool table.”

“You weren’t complaining about it when I was doing the folding.”

You reached a hand up to playfully swat at him, but he caught it in his own before bringing it up to his mouth and pressing it against his lips. You let out a quiet hum of contentment at the feeling and you felt him grin against your skin. 

“Well, let me know when you can feel your legs again.”

“Why?”

“So we can leave. I’m driving you home, but I’m not carrying you all the way to my Jeep.”

“Javier Peña, ever the gentleman,” you laughed as you turned your head to face him.

“I have my moments, _corazón_ ,” he said as he stared down at you with a soft expression on his face. You noticed that his cheeks still appeared a little bit ruddy and there was a lite sheen of sweat on his skin. You had never seen him look so relaxed and a part of you felt a sense of pride that you had been responsible for it. But underneath that pride something else loomed in the depths of your heart. A flicker of something good and warm that only seemed to grow the longer he stared into your eyes.

You hadn’t expected this soft and tender side of Javier. In fact you hadn’t even known it existed, and now that you did you never wanted him to hide it from you again. But deep down you knew that he probably would, and the thought made every single part of you ache in the worst possible way. 

“Yeah, I suppose you do Javi,” you responded quietly. He merely smiled down at you before leaning over to place a soft kiss to your forehead, and then another one against your parted lips.

You missed him already.


	6. Chapter 6

Youcouldn’t sleep. 

Despite having taken the longest and most relaxing shower of your entire life when you had first gotten home three hours earlier, the moment you crawled into your own bed and burrowed your way under your sheets you felt wide awake. Every time you closed your eyes they’d snap back open against your will, and then you would roll onto your back with a huff and stare up at your bedroom ceiling again to study the tiny crack in the white plaster above you that you’d never noticed before. And each time you glanced at it, it almost seemed like it was growing. No doubt an optical illusion that was the result of your own exhaustion.

It was fast approaching 5:00 am and your bedroom window was cracked open just enough to allow an early morning breeze into your room as well as the sounds of Bogatá starting to wake up in the distance. There were more cars on the street now, the birds were starting to sing, and you could hear the tell-tale sound of Señora Rosa’s voice saying hello to a passerby on the street below as she took off for her daily sunrise walk. But those sounds weren’t the reason you were still wide awake.

That honor went to Javier. 

You couldn’t stop replaying everything that had happened between the two of you at the bar. The drinking, the flirting, both of you admitting that you had thought about touching each other. And then there was the way his lips had felt on yours, before he let them trail down to your neck and collarbone. His mustache hadn’t tickled nearly as much as you had thought it would to your pleasant surprise, though you hadn’t realized that until now. You thought about the way he had tasted and the smell of his sweat and faded cologne. The weight of his body on yours, and the way he felt moving inside of you…

Your hand absentmindedly traced along your right hip and you pressed your fingertips in the same spot where his own had been only a few hours ago. Your flesh was tender to the touch and you knew you were probably going to have the faintest bruises from his hard grip appear on your body within the next day or so.

You wondered if they would be as dark as the ones he’d sucked into existence on your collarbone…

As good as the sex had been (and by good you meant fucking _great_ if you were being honest), you found yourself thinking more about what had happened afterwards instead of the actual act itself. Like how he had carefully cleaned you up and then sat with you for nearly twenty minutes on the pool table just talking to one another in hushed voices like you were trying not to disturb anyone else. Even though you were still the only two people in the bar just like you had been all night. After you let out a giant yawn in the middle of a sentence, he hopped off the table and helped you stand up before giving you a moment of privacy to straighten your clothes and your hair. The two of you left The Monarch Club shortly after and he walked you down the street to where he had parked his Jeep, his hand never leaving the small of your back except for when he opened the passenger door for you.

The drive to your apartment had been brief and mostly silent apart from you whispering when and where he had to turn. Javier’s face was softly illuminated here and there by the headlights of the occasional car that drove past, and out of the corner of your eye you couldn’t help but memorize just how serene his profile looked in the night. He wore the same tired yet content look on his face and a part of you was worried you might not get to see it again after you got out of his Jeep.

He had said there were things he wanted to do to you next time, but did it really count when those words had been spoken while he had been buried deep inside of you? People constantly said things in the heat of the moment that they didn’t actually mean. You’d been guilty of it too in the past. Even so, you hoped he meant it but you weren’t sure how to ask him properly and blurting out “ _So when did you want to fuck again?_ ” seemed a little crass even for the two of you.

When he had pulled up to your apartment he leaned over and kissed you deeply one last time before murmuring to get some sleep against your lips. You heard yourself say “ _see you later_ ”, though it came out unintentionally like a question much to your pitiful annoyance. But he only smirked at you in response before he let out a teasing “I know where to find you.” 

You felt his eyes on you as you walked up the small flight of steps that lead to the front door of your building, and you fumbled with your keys knowing he was staring at you. But then again, he was always staring, and you weren’t sure why it still made you as nervous as it did. It wasn’t until you unlocked the door and stepped into the lobby that you finally heard him speed off into the night. The knowledge that he had waited until you were safely inside was not lost on you, and that was the thought you kept coming back to.

He waited for you. A simple action, one hardly worth your intense focus. But for a man like Javi, who notoriously hated having his time wasted, the fact that he did that for you was…sweet, kind, and considerate. You knew Javi was capable of being a real asshole sometimes, but you also knew at least some part of that was just an act. You had seen small glimpses of what he was really like underneath it all, but never like this. Never so much of it for such an extended period of time, and you were hungry to see more of that side of him, if he would only let you that is. But now you two had crossed a line, and you weren’t sure what that meant for your friendship. Either you were going to be seeing more of each other or less, and each option seemed equally daunting in its own way.

And as you laid in bed imagining what the bruises on your hips were going to look like while wondering if you and Javi were still friends or something more you realized you desperately needed to stop agonizing over it by yourself. You knew eventually you’d need to talk to Javi about it, but you doubted that right now he would have an answer for you about anything. What you really needed was to talk to someone who wasn’t directly involved in whatever your relationship with Javier was.

Your mind immediately went to Manny, but you quickly shook that thought away. While you had always appreciated him being your go to person to rant at whenever something was bothering you, being held and rocked in his ridiculously large arms while he shushed you like a baby throwing a fit wasn’t going to cut it this time.

You needed to talk to someone who had plenty of experience dealing with men and relationships. Someone who had loudly proclaimed more than once that they loved nothing more than love itself. Someone who wouldn’t judge you for anything you ever admitted to them, someone who would pester you to spill every single gruesome detail you’d be willing to share and then some. Just so they had all the information they needed to help you navigate the next steps you were going to be taking with Javi. You needed to break out the big guns for this one.

And the biggest gun you had in your relatively small arsenal of friends since moving down to Bogatá was without a doubt Celia Valentina Castillo-Alvarez. You took a deep breath, counted to ten, and then reached over to grab your phone from your nightstand and dialed her number.

She was going to fucking kill you for daring to call her at the ass crack of dawn, but it was a risk you were willing to take.

* * *

You had done some truly stupid things in your life before. 

Like the time when you were four years old and had placed both of your hands down on the open oven door while your mother was pulling out a roast she’d made for dinner. She had to give you a few sips of brandy to help you sleep that night because the pain from the burns on the palms of your tiny hands had been almost too much to bear. You fell asleep hiccuping from crying so hard and also from the amber liquid that was sloshing around in your stomach. 

Or that one time when you were twelve and had been dared to shoplift a tube of lipstick from the Estée Lauder counter in the mall by some older neighborhood girls you had desperately wanted to befriend. And when the security guard caught you red handed, they ditched you with loud shrieking laughter and you felt like a fool for having let them so easily influence you to do something incredibly foolish because you had been lonely and wanted to impress them. 

And then there was that one time during your sophomore year of college where you had been invited to a party that your Philosophy TA happened to be at. You knew he had a crush on you, and you knew you were without a doubt probably going to fail your midterm, so you flirted with him in the hopes that it would somehow help with whatever grade you were going to get on your paper for the class. It did, he gave you a B+ that you definitely didn’t deserve, and then out of shame you ignored him for the rest of the semester. Which was difficult considering you had to face him every Thursday for two and a half hours out of your day in the classroom. Every time you caught his eye you saw a flash of hurt in his handsome face that only made the guilt bubble up in your stomach, and on the last day of class you walked past him as he was packing his bag and mumbled out an “ _I’m so sorry_ ” that to this day you still weren’t sure he heard or not.

But all of that paled in comparison you thought to your incredibly stupid fucking decision to ride your bike the two and half miles from your apartment to Celia’s on almost no sleep and less than eight hours after getting your brains fucked out on the pool table at work by Javier.

Yes, you were truly fucking stupid.

And so fucking _sore_. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh _fuck,_ ” you hissed out in pain after you ran over a particularly bumpy patch of road. You nervously eyed the dark blue thermos that was filled with coffee that wobbled precariously in the wicker basket in the front of your bike, silently willing it to remain in its little corner of the basket and not crush the paper bag filled with pastries that lay next to it. you had promised to bring Celia caffeine and a few _pastel de gloria_ in exchange for forcing her to get up before noon on your behalf. And the last thing you wanted was to show up with damaged goods.

Originally you had thought about walking, but that would’ve taken too long. You had also briefly entertained the idea of taking a cab, but the thought of having to make uncomfortable small talk with a stranger on your way to Celia’s sounded like an absolute nightmare. So you settled on biking.

You regretted your decision after you had gone the first three blocks in your journey.

But you would be damned if you were going to turn back around to drop your bicycle back off at home and walk instead. You needed to get to Celia and you needed to do it as soon as humanly possible. Regardless of how much discomfort it would bring you to do so.

Between your stressed out thoughts and exhausted and sore body you were in hell. And it was one of your own making. To think not long ago you’d never felt better. You would’ve laughed at how far you had fallen from that high if you weren’t too busy trying to focus on peddling the rest of the way there without letting your lower half touch your seat.

 _You could do this_ , you thought. You only had about six minutes left and then you’d be in Celia’s beautifully cushy apartment that she had inherited from her dead grandmother and you’d finally be able to unload everything that had been taking over your mind for the past few weeks. You just needed to survive this fucking bike ride first.

A large pothole loomed ahead of you and you swerved sharply to avoid it. The thermos tipped over that time and flattened the bag of pastries with a soft thump that was drowned out by the strangled and frustrated “Oh come _on_!” that erupted from your mouth at the sight of it.

You just peddled faster.

* * *

Celia lived in a considerably fancier building than yours. It was located on a nicer side of town, it didn’t have any bullet holes littering the side of its foundation, and most importantly, it had a working elevator so you wouldn’t have to take the stairs to the top floor where her apartment was. 

Using the spare key she had given you the very first night you had met her while at a party with some other students from the university (she had loudly proclaimed “dibs on the _gringa_ ” after she had witnessed you shotgun a beer faster than anyone else there and was glued to your side for the rest of the night) you let yourself in the front entrance and walked your bike into the thankfully empty elevator before pressing the black button with the white seven engraved in it.

You anxiously tapped your left foot the entire time as you watched the numbers slowly light up one by one as you passed through each floor of the building. Time seemed to be moving slower much to your annoyance, but it also was giving you all of the precious seconds you needed to collect your thoughts. You knew the moment you dropped the bomb on Celia about you and Javier she was going to ask you a million questions at once and you needed to have everything single detail from the night before perfectly memorized (not like you already didn’t) and ready to give her at a moment’s notice. You wouldn’t launch right into it you decided, instead you’d give her some time to drink the coffee you brought, eat a pastry, and tell you all about whatever escapades she had gotten into last night because knowing her she had probably done something even crazier than fucking the guy you had the hots for at your place of work.

A soft chiming sound signaled you had reached your destination and the elevator doors slid open, and you all but sprinted out dragging your bike along with you, making a sharp left turn around the corridor and past three other apartment doors before stopping in front of the one with an ornate 7H in gold lettering on the front of its dark brown wood. You knocked on it quickly five times before you heard the muffled sounds of movement behind it.

The door was yanked open and there stood Celia in all of her tiny glory, wearing a black silk nightgown that went to the tops of her brown thighs, her long black hair was in complete disarray and her eyes still puffy with sleep. She looked cranky and just as she opened her mouth to more than likely chastise you in person for making her get up when the sun rose instead of her usual three to four hours after it did, you blurted out:

“I had sex with Javier.”

Celia stared at you with wide eyes, suddenly looking very awake and neither one of you said a word for an agonizingly long time. That was until she broke the silence between the two of you with a very loud, and very _ecstatic_ , wordless screech that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

Perhaps you had made a mistake in coming here…but she didn’t give you much time to dwell on that thought before she reached forward and grabbed you and your bike with the strength of a man twice her size and yanked you both through her front door with a giddy smile.

“Tell me _**everything**_ right fucking now.”

* * *

Celia made the decision for the both of you that you’d be drinking Bloody Marys instead of the thermos of coffee you had brought. And while the two of you stood in her kitchen as she made your drinks, you both worked your way through the bag of smashed pastries.

“When and where?” Celia asked as she poured a heavy shot of vodka into the two glasses that sat on her granite kitchen counter.

“Last night,” you responded as clearly as you could even though your mouth was full. “And I’m going to tell you where, but you have to promise me you’re not going to scream in my face again when I do.”

“I will make no such promise,” she chirped out while she stirred the bloody mary mix in with the vodka using too giant stalks of celery in each hand before pushing your glass across the counter towards you with a smile. 

You rubbed the bridge of your nose with the back of your thumb, and though the action felt familiar you were certain you had never done it before. When your hand dropped down from your face you saw that Celia had just popped half of a _pastal_ in her mouth and you figured this was your chance to drop the bomb.

“It happened at The Monarch Club…”

Celia stopped chewing mid bite and stared at you like your words had spelled her into being frozen in place.

“…On the pool table.”

The only movement she seemed capable of making was when she rapidly blinked her honey-brown doll-like eyes at you almost like she was trying to plead in morse code to not be making any of this up. And then a high pitched whining sound came from somewhere deep within Celia’s chest and she looked like she was physically in pain. 

“Are you going to be alright?” you asked her, worry etched clearly on your face.

A muffled shout that sounded like it could’ve been the word “ _No_ ” was hurled in your direction along with a few pieces of half chewed pastry. 

“Do you need to sit down?”

All she could do was nod frantically before allowing her body to slide slowly down to the kitchen floor. With a sigh you grabbed both of your drinks that had been left untouched on the counter, and then you sank down to join her. 

* * *

The two of you sat on the floor of her kitchen facing one another. It had taken you nearly forty minutes to tell Celia about what had happened the night before with Javi. Partially because she kept interrupting you every few minutes with questions. The last one of course ended up being the most obnoxious one.

“So how big was he?”

You choked on your drink and began to cough trying to ignore the painful burn in your throat.

“That big, huh?”

“Celia, I am begging you to behave yourself right now.”

“What! He’s not even here right now, so I don’t think he’d care…Also if you tell me I’ll consider us even for you making me get up so early and force feeding me flattened pastries.”

“You’re so over dramatic.”

Celia stared at you pointedly before taking an exaggerated bite of celery and you found yourself rolling your eyes at her as you huffed out a tiny aggravated “fine” before setting the glass down between your legs and then extending your hands with your index fingers pointed out to demonstrate what your best guess of measurement was to appease your friend’s mind.

“Oh _gringa_ ,” she sighed out. “God truly blessed you last night.”

“Are you done now?”

“That was the last one I swear,” she said as she raised a hand up to make an exaggerated “x” over her heart before winking at you and tapping lightly against her eyelid. Her antics, though often loud and on the extreme side, were somehow incredibly endearing to you. And you wondered how you had gone so long in your life without Celia being such a colorfully exuberant part of it.

“I’m so fucking happy for you,” she sighed out with a smile. “Like, _indescribably_ happy. You’ve been out here for a while now and you hadn’t gotten laid yet. I was starting to worry about you.”

“So you don’t think it’s weird I fucked the same guy your cousin used to sleep with?”

“ _Again_ , it’s not like they were actually dating,” she reminded you. “He was a client of hers. A _very_ generous and attentive client based on what you two have told me.” she said as she wiggled her eyebrows at you.

“Cee…”

“So like, what are you worried about?” she asked “Cause you seem really concerned for someone who just had some mind blowing sex less than 24 hours ago.”

“Well, for one thing…” you started before pausing to finish the last few sips of your watered down Bloody Mary. “We didn’t use a condom. I had one stashed in my purse, but I didn’t think to grab it and-”

“Shit happens _gringa_ , so don’t beat yourself up over it. You’re on birth control right?”

“Yeah, I’ve been on the pill since I was 19. But that’s not what I’m worried about because he didn’t…you know.”

“Blow his load in you?”

“Oh my fucking god Celia…”

“Look, if it’s any consolation Lulu told me they always used condoms when they hooked up, so I’m sure he’s not running around Bogatá raw dogging -yeah _gringa_ , I fucking said it- _raw dogging_ every single woman he’s with. But I get it, there’s some scary shit out there, so we’ll just stop by a clinic next week and get you checked out, okay? I know this one that’s on the other side of town and it’s filled with nuns and crosses, but it’s quiet and discrete. My friend Veronica works there and she said there’s even this nice American nurse who works with her, so you could probably ask for her to do your tests.”

“You’d really go with me?” you asked her with a hopeful look. 

“Duh!” she laughed “I could use a check-up down there anyway. We’ll make a day of it, and afterwards we can grab some drinks and go dancing, yeah?”

“Yeah, I think that sounds really good.” you smiled. 

“So what’s the other thing you’re worried about?”

You were silent for a moment while you pondered your answer. Apart from when you had gone on your tirade about Javi to Manny in the alleyway at work, you hadn’t really voiced anything about your actual feelings involving Javier aloud to anyone. At least not in a very articulate way. 

“I’m worried that this means something to me,” you started with a sigh. “I’m worried that _he_ means something to me. And that can’t happen for a lot of reasons.”

“Like what?” Celia asked with genuine confusion painted over her beautiful face. 

“Well, he’s more than a decade older than me. And he’s a DEA agent, so he’s constantly in the face of danger like every single day. And what if I’m just the bartender he likes to flirt with because I make it easy for him to forget about all of that shit for a little while? I don’t want to just be a distraction to him. And then there’s the big glaring issue that is my visa. it’s not going to last forever so why should I try to start something with this guy?”

“None of those were reasons _gringa,_ in fact all I just heard you say were a bunch of excuses about why you _shouldn’t_ get involved with him, not that you can’t.” Celia reached over and plucked the celery stalk from your glass before taking a bite. “I think you’re being a chicken shit about it.”

“I’m sorry, you think I’m being a _what_?”

“Chicken shit. I think you found a guy that you really like, and you obviously have a connection with him because he comes to see you all the time at the bar, when he obviously doesn’t have a lot of free time as it is. And every time you talk about him you get this dumb look on your face and that was even before he fucked you with his magic dick. And you’re afraid you’re going to get hurt so you’re just not going to do anything about it. So yeah, you’re being a chicken shit.”

“So what do you propose I do, oh wise one?”

“Ask him the fuck out! What’s the worst that can happen? He says ‘no’?”

“There’s worse things than that…”

_Like he could break my fucking heart._

_Or I could break his…_

“Oh fuck off _gringa_. Do you like Javier or not?”

“Yes.”

“Then fucking do something about it! Next time you see him, tell him to hang out with you outside of that fucking dive bar you both practically live at. Be fucking brave, embrace the chance of allowing yourself the possibility to be happy with someone who drives you so crazy you have to sit on your friend’s kitchen floor at 7:45 in the morning just so you can talk about how much you like them.”

“But-”

“But _nothing_!” she cried out as she threw her hands in the air. “You’re both consenting adults, and everyone knows men aren’t as mature as women anyway so really you have the upper ground here. Yeah, he’s DEA, but that’s better than being some dirty _sicario_. And you are **_not_** just a bartender, so don’t you dare talk about my best friend that way. Anyone who is lucky enough to have you, is more than lucky. And that includes Javier fucking Peña. Oh, and visas can always be renewed dumb-dumb.”

You had expected a lot from Celia, but you hadn’t expected all of that. The emotions you felt from her words worked their way through every inch of your body and made you feel a sense of peace for the first time in weeks.

“I’m your best friend?” you asked in a small voice.

“Duh,” she said as she rolled her eyes. “Why do you think I gave you a key to my apartment the night I met you?”

“Because you’re fucking crazy, Celia” you laughed. “And you were probably on a bunch of blow.”

“Those things are also true.”

You sat in silence studying each other with smiles on your faces. And then Celia was scooting over towards you and grabbing both of your hands in her much smaller ones.

“I just want you to be happy. Stupidly happy if possible. And maybe you can have that with Javier. But there’s only one way to find out.”

“I know,” you said. “I just need to stop being a chicken shit.”

“Exactly!”

The two of you laughed and then leaned forward at the exact same time to press your foreheads together. Celia gave your hands a reassuring squeeze, and you heard yourself say:

“You’re mine too, Cee.”

* * *

You ended up spending the entire day with Celia. The two of you went out and grabbed breakfast at the same cafe you had gone to months ago back when she had first filled you in on everything she knew about Javier. You found it strange that she shared an indirect connection with him, and when you told her so she corrected you and said she preferred the term serendipitous to strange because it sounded more romantic. You couldn’t help but agree with her.

The rest of the day was spent back at Celia’s apartment where you ended up lounging around in her living room all afternoon watching movies and eating all of the junk food in her pantry. You even at one point hung out with her in her bathroom while she took a bubble bath in her massive claw foot tub while you sat on the black and white tiled floor and painted your toenails a deep shade of red that looked like blood. She casually mentioned that she had recently just started seeing someone, though it was still in the beginning stages and she didn’t care about putting any sort of label on it just yet. But even so, when you pressed her for details she remained tight lipped and wouldn’t even describe what he looked like to you, so you decided to drop it. Everyone was allowed their own secrets, you thought. You would be around whenever she wanted to share any of hers with you. 

Eventually the two of you could hardly keep your eyes open and you passed out before 9 pm. Which was arguably the earliest you had fallen asleep since you had started working at the bar, and probably the earliest Celia had ever fallen asleep in her entire life. It had been a long day for the two of you and you welcomed the embrace of a good night’s rest. That night you dreamt you were walking through the streets of Bogotá at dusk as giant shimmering perfumed bubbles floated past you. And even though it appeared that you were the only one in the entire city, you didn’t feel lonely at all. 

When you woke up the next morning it was nearly 11, and Celia was still sound asleep curled up next to you in her gigantic purple bed. You were careful not to wake her as you got up, but made a point to scribble out a quick thank you note on a piece of scrap paper you found in your purse and left it on the pillow next to her snoring face for her to find whenever she regained consciousness. 

You grabbed your bike, and walked out of your best friend’s apartment feeling truly at ease with yourself for the first time in months. 

Unfortunately, that feeling didn’t last long.

* * *

Thankfully you weren’t nearly as sore as you had been yesterday, uncomfortably stiff sure, but at least it was bearable. Even so, you still didn’t feel like riding your bike all the way home and risk making yourself feel any worse than you had the day before. Instead you were perfectly content to walk the two miles back to your apartment, embracing the cool breeze and warm sun the entire way. Your mind was blissfully empty, and you were too busy contemplating how you wanted to spend your final day off before working another busy weekend at the bar that you hadn’t even noticed just how empty the sidewalk was. In fact it wasn’t until you heard the sounds of people murmuring and weeping under their breath that you turned your head and saw that the intersection you needed to cross was closed off by a police blockade and a large crowd that appeared to be focused on something you were unable to see from where you were standing.

Curiosity got the better of you, and you found yourself gently pushing your way through the mass of bodies crowding the sidewalk so you could get a better look at what they were all so intently focused on. You had barely finished saying excuse me to an older gentleman when the words died on your tongue as you took in the scene before you.

The first thing noticed were the shiny rocks that littered the pavement. Though you realized very quickly that they weren’t actually stones, but metal. Bullet casings to be exact, and there were dozens of them laid out before you glinting under the late morning sun. The second thing you noticed were the splashes of red that were almost the exact same shade as the color on your newly painted toe nails. Your heart sank the longer you stared at the blood that covered parts of the black asphalt. You wanted to turn and force your way back through the crowd and away from it all, but your body was frozen in place and your eyes seemed to have a mind of their own. 

Some part of your brain was trying to trick you into thinking that you were staring at three mannequins that had been carelessly tossed in the middle of the road, though you knew better. And while you had seen dead bodies before courtesy of having had to attend two open casket funerals in your past, at least those ones had been neat and tidy. Not laying out in the open riddled with bullet holes, covered in their own blood, and eyes wide open staring blankly at the sky. Though the fourth one that was half hanging out of the open backseat of the car directly across the street seemed to be staring directly at you and you couldn’t look away no matter how much you wanted to.

You were positive that the young men who had been gunned down were cartel members. But this was the first time you had ever seen anything like this up close and in person. Sure you had grown used to the far off gunshots you often heard late at night from the comfort of your own home, and watched the news report yet another bombing in the city, or that more bodies had been found hanging from lamp posts and trees as a warning, to who exactly was a great mystery to you. And even though you knew about the horrors this country faced on a daily basis, a part of it still didn’t seem like it was capable of being real. You realized with a sinking feeling in your chest, that your naivety to the true plight of the citizens of Colombia was almost insulting. Just because the violence hadn’t touched you personally didn’t make it any less real. And now you were painfully aware that you had chosen to make a home for yourself in an active war zone. 

Javier was right, you really were just a pretty idiot. 

The sound of a camera going off snapped you out of your daze, and you noticed a blonde man was crouched down a few feet in front of you photographing one of the bodies. He didn’t seem like he was a police officer, and he wasn’t wearing a uniform like the other men around him. Just jeans, a grey t-shirt, and a green bullet proof vest. He looked almost bored as he positioned himself around the crime scene and took picture after picture of the young man on the ground before he stood up and turned his attention to the one hanging out of the car. 

Even though you had never met him before, or even seen a photo of him, there was no doubt in your mind that you were staring at the infamous Steve Murphy. And if he was here photographing the bodies that meant his partner couldn’t be too far away.

“Javi!” Murphy called out suddenly, confirming your suspicions. His voice was stern, slightly accented, much like you had always imagined it would be. “Get your ass over here man.”

Javier seemingly appeared out of nowhere and was immediately at Murphy’s side peering into the car with a scowl. You noticed he was wearing the same green vest that his partner had over a dark red shirt, and your eyes were drawn to the large silver gun that was tucked into the front pocket of the vest that was across his abdomen. Javi’s movements were different than you were used to seeing, almost stiff and calculated. His tawny arms were crossed tightly over his chest as he spoke to Murphy in a low voice, though you couldn’t hear a word he was saying from where you stood. Not that you were sure you even wanted to. 

You both had lives outside of the bar and the little bubble you had created for yourselves. And this was your first real glimpse at his. No edited tales from his own lips, or stories of his escapades from your best friend’s, but a real live look at what Javier’s life was like. It was messy, and brutal, and you found yourself wondering if he could ever possibly fit you into it. Or if he’d ever truly want to. And a part of you felt annoyed that even now, you couldn’t help but study his handsome features so intently. But this was the first time you had ever seen him in broad daylight, and he looked exactly the same but also so different. For the longest time you had thought his hair was black, but now you realized it was actually a dark shade of brown, and certain pieces of it almost seemed to have a lighter sun kissed look to them.

You wondered if his eyes were lighter too. They probably were and you almost wished you were close enough to see them. Then, as if he could read your mind, Javier’s head suddenly turned in your direction and he locked eyes with you all the way across the road through the large crowd that still partially obscured your entire body from his gaze. His facial expression was unreadable, but you saw his jaw clench ever so slightly. There was something about the look in his eyes and the way his brow furrowed that made you heart clench in your chest for reasons entirely different than the other night when he had stared down at you on the pool table. It was a look that all but screamed: 

“ _You weren’t supposed to see this._ ”

And you couldn’t help but agree.

Which was why it was almost too easy for you to turn away from him and the bloody scene between you both, retreat back through the mass of people surrounding you, and walk away. 

* * *

When you got home you immediately made a beeline towards your bathroom and grabbed your nail polish remover from the medicine cabinet. As you sat on the edge of your bathtub and frantically rubbed at the polish on your toes that was suddenly far too red for your liking, you decided that the stinging sensation in your eyes was a result from the smell of the rubbing alcohol filling the room, and not from the tears you had been fighting since you had left Javier at the bloody intersection. But what else were you supposed to have done besides take off? Surely he hadn’t expected you to stick around and try to talk to him. So why did you feel so bad that you hadn’t so much as even given him a small wave goodbye to let him know that you were okay? _Were_ you even okay? More importantly, why the _fuck_ were you having such a hard time getting all of your nail polish off? 

You settled for getting as much of the red off of your nails as you could and found yourself back in bed shortly afterwards. Wide awake just like you had been two nights before, with your eyes staring straight up at your bedroom ceiling where they were immediately drawn to the crack in the plaster. 

In your absence, it had grown a few inches and was now reaching its way towards the light fixture in the middle of the ceiling. You wondered how long it would take to reach it, and if anything would end up breaking as a result of the crumbling foundation. 

Or if you’d even be able to fix it if it did. 


	7. Chapter 7

“Why are there so many fucking crosses in here?” **  
**

“ _Gringa_ , I warned you well in advance that this place was filled with them.”

You couldn’t argue with that one. Celia had in fact warned you on her kitchen floor almost two weeks ago that the clinic was filled to the brim with slightly overwhelming religious decor. But even so there was one thing in particular she had failed to mention that was giving you the creeps.

“Yeah, well a heads up about the life size Virgin Mary statue in the corner that keeps staring at me would’ve been nice.”

“I wanted to surprise you with that one.”

“Thanks a lot Cee.”

Celia gave you a playful wink as she popped her bubble gum loudly in her mouth before focusing her attention back on filing her nails. Her deciding that the waiting room of a clinic was as good a place as any to touch up her manicure was one of the most Celia things you had ever seen her do. You couldn’t help but admire her dedication to always making sure she looked her best. 

“If you keep staring at me I’m going to pinch you with my claws,” Celia said without looking up from her significantly pointier hot pink nails as she began to work on filing her other hand.

“I’d rather stare at you than that creepy virgin,” you replied as you purposefully avoided eye contact with the slightly ominous figure in the corner of the room. “I feel like she’s judging me.”

“Pfft, homegirl wasn’t a virgin,” Celia scoffed, though you noticed she quickly crossed herself after saying that before continuing to work on her nails. “And she’s definitely not judging you. If anything she’s probably very happy you’re here to make sure you have a fresh and healthy coochie so you can fuck your big dicked DEA boyfriend again worry free.”

“I can’t fuck him again if he keeps avoiding me,” you groaned as you dramatically slumped down in your chair. 

“He _still_ hasn’t shown up at the bar?” Celia asked, casting a quick glance in your direction as you glowered at the only cross free wall in front of you.

“Nope,” you replied, feeling a small wave of anger rise up in your chest. “I haven’t seen him since that day on the street.”

“That’s not true. You said you saw him on the news, remember?”

Though Celia had a point, you didn’t think catching a quick glimpse of Javier on your tv counted. The morning after you had stumbled across the confusing and bloody scene during your walk home you decided to watch the news, mostly out of desperation to learn more about what had happened with the shooting the day before. Unsurprisingly, it was the first thing being reported on when you flipped to the local news channel and seeing the dead bodies again on the screen of your ancient television made your stomach turn. Just as you suspected the men who had been killed were members of the Medellín cartel, and they had been gunned down in an altercation with a group known as Search Bloc and of course, the DEA. As you listened to the reporter describe the escalating tensions between Pablo Escobar and the Colombian government, the camera quickly cut to the crime scene and in the background you saw Javi and his partner Steve walking over one of the bodies in the road, though both of them seemed to be pointedly ignoring facing the news camera head on.

“Either way,” you sighed as you sank even further down in your seat. “He hasn’t come to the bar, or even bothered to show up at my apartment building. And I have no way of contacting him.”

“You should just show up at the embassy and give him a piece of your mind.”

“Celia, I can’t just show up at the fucking US embassy to yell at a grown ass man who is also a fucking DEA agent because he hurt my feelings.”

“Sure you can,” she said as she held out her left hand to admire her work. “That’s what I would do.”

A moment of silence fell between the two of you as you continued to pout next to Celia who was once again furiously reshaping her left pinky nail. The knowledge that Javier was more than likely avoiding you truly hurt. You weren’t sure if it was because he didn’t know what to say to you because of what you had seen, or because you two had slept together. Both possibilities were equally depressing in their own uniquely horrifying ways, and you weren’t entirely sure which one you were hoping for to be the actual reason for his sudden absence from your life. Though there was a tiny logical part of your brain that kept trying to argue that he was probably (hopefully) just really busy with work. 

And yet you seemed hellbent on ignoring that last option in favor of moping around like an idiot.

“Doesn’t the embassy have guards?” you finally asked. “Like, if I showed up there to chew Javi out would I possibly end up getting shot?”

“I don’t know,” Celia replied as she tucked her nail file back in her purse. “That’s a risk you’ll just have to take.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how flippantly your best friend had just suggested you risk your life for the sake of getting a chance to give Javi a piece of your mind. You honestly wouldn’t have expected anything less from her. 

The sound of someone calling out your full name made the laughter die on your lips as you remembered why you were at the clinic in the first place. You stood up from your seat and turned to face a blonde nurse a few years older than you who wore a kind smile on her pretty face. 

“Um hello, hi, yeah. That’s me.”

“Hi, I’m Connie.” she said as she gestured for you to follow her. “Let’s head on back and get you set up.”

“Go get ’em tiger,” Celia said as she swatted at your ass as you walked past her. “I’ll see you on the other side.”

* * *

The walls of the examination room were a soothing baby blue in color, and also thankfully devoid of any religious paraphernalia. Though now that you were actually sitting on the exam table in just a scratchy hospital gown somehow made you feel even more anxious than you had been in the waiting room.

“So it says here on your chart we’re doing an STD screening today?” Connie asked as she glanced over her clipboard that held all of your information.

“Yep,” you replied as you nervously swung your legs over the edge of the table.

“Have you ever been tested before?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You don’t have to call me that,” she laughed and the sound of it instantly soothed you. It was pleasant and kind, in fact everything about her seemed to radiate a gentle kindness that made you feel like you were with someone you had known for years. “So you know the drill then?”

“You take some of my blood, I pee in a cup, and then you shove a giant q-tip inside of me.”

“I promise there will be no shoving of any kind today. More like a gentle swab.”

“I think I can live with that.”

“So what do you do?” she asked as she began setting up her supplies on the metal tray next to the bed.

“I’m a bartender,” you said as you studied her movements. “I work at The Monarch Club.”

“I’ve heard of that place!” Connie said as her bright blue eyes twinkled with excitement which surprised you considering people rarely got that enthused over your work. “People say it’s a total dive, but that’s my favorite kind of bar.”

“Really?” you asked with a small smile. 

“Really,” she replied. “I met my husband at a dive bar back in Miami.”

“How long have you been here in Bogatá?” you asked her as she reached for your hand and began to rub your index finger with an alcohol wipe.

“A few years now. My husband and I moved down here for his job,” she said as she positioned the small lancet at the tip of your finger. “This might sting a little bit.”

“That’s okay,” you said flinching slightly as you felt the needle break through your skin. “What does your husband do?”

“Just boring office work at the embassy,” she replied while squeezing your finger tip causing large drops of blood to bubble up to the surface which she then collected in a small vial. The sight of it made you feel uncharacteristically queasy and Connie seemed to notice.

“Does blood make you uncomfortable?” she asked gently. “Do you need a minute?”

“No,” you said with a shaky breath. “Not usually, it’s just…well, the other day I was walking home and I saw something awful. Did you hear about that shooting that happened?”

“I hear about a lot of shootings,” she answered as she carefully placed a band-aid over your finger. “But I think I have a good idea which one you’re talking about.”

“I just…I’ve never seen anything like that before.” you said before looking at her while silently asking for permission to go on which she granted with a small nod of encouragement. “There was a lot of blood, and I know the people involved were not the greatest in the world, but I can’t stop thinking about it and how shit like that is happening every day. And I feel..bad that I didn’t realize the full scale of it all until recently even though I’ve lived here for a few months now. I can’t pretend like it isn’t happening because that would be selfish of me, but I guess I’m just worried that I won’t be able to get over it.”

“You won’t,” Connie said with a hint of sadness in her voice. “And I don’t think you should. I know it’s awful, and I’ve seen my fair share of shootings and bombings and worse than that since I’ve been here, but if you try to turn it off and ignore it you’re no better than the people who are doing the killing.”

“What do you do to cope with it all?” you asked.

“I try…to focus on the good things in my life,” she said while shrugging her shoulders. “I call my sister every other day, I tell my husband that I love him, I invite his best friend over every Thursday to have dinner with us because that man can’t cook for shit and I worry about him sometimes because he’s my friend too. I feed the stray cat that lives in the alley next to my apartment cause he looks like my old one. And I come here and try to make a difference and help people the best I can.”

“By stabbing them with needles and stealing their blood?”

“Yes,” she laughed, and you found yourself once again being soothed by the sound. “But also I like to remind people who are feeling a little bit lost like I do sometimes that it’s okay to feel like that. And that things will work themselves out if they remember to take the time to focus on the good things in their lives too. And if there’s not enough of that good already in it, there’s still time to make some for yourself and the people around you.”

“Are you an angel?” you blurted out. “No seriously, you just seem really nice and you might just be my favorite nurse I’ve ever met.”

“You’re sweet for saying that,” she replied with another quiet laugh. “But if I were an actual celestial being I wouldn’t be walking the halls of this clinic in the same baggy scrubs every single day.”

“I’m surprised they don’t make you wear long flowing robes that match that creepy statue in the waiting room.”

“Oh, I hate that thing!” Connie exclaimed. “I want to put a blindfold over it because I swear to god I feel like it’s always watching me whenever I’m in there.” 

“Honestly, I think you should.” you offered. “I can be your lookout, and I just know that my friend Celia would be more than happy to make some sort of distraction.”

“She seems like the type to get into trouble pretty often.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

Connie gave you another kind smile before clearing her throat and glancing up at the clock near the door.

“As much fun as it’s been talking to you, we’ve been in here for over half an hour and I still need to finish your exam and get to my other patients.”

“Yeah, we should probably wrap this up.” you said, though you wished you didn’t have to. You enjoyed talking to Connie and her presence felt familiar, safe, and good. And like she said, it was important to hold on to any good you could find.

“You should come by the bar sometime. It really is the best dive bar in the city, and your first round would be on me as a thank you for, well, everything.”

“You know, I might just have to take you up on that.”

The rest of the exam went by painlessly, Connie was easy to talk to and promised you that she would personally call you herself with the results of your tests the following week. And when she walked you back out to the waiting room she gave you a hug and told you to take care and that she would be seeing you soon when she came to visit you at the bar. With a smile and a wave she disappeared back to the exam rooms and you took your seat waiting for Celia to emerge from her own exam as well.

You felt the unblinking eyes of the Virgin Mary statue peering at you from her corner and you resisted the urge to turn your head and stick your tongue out at it. After all, the last thing you needed to happen today was to tempt fate and be struck by lightning.

Besides, you thought. If anyone deserved to be potentially smited by an angry god, you figured it might as well be an actual asshole.

Like the one asshole in particular you couldn’t stop thinking about who also seemed to have completely disappeared off the face of the planet.

“You should focus your gaze on the embassy a few blocks away,” you said to the statue, hoping no one sitting nearby could hear you talking to an inanimate object. “There’s someone who works there that could really use your judgy vibes.”

Your only response was the same unblinking and empty stare, though now it almost appeared to be slightly mocking. You muttered a hasty “nevermind” before slouching back down in your seat silently willing that whoever Celia’s nurse was would hurry the fuck up.

* * *

The rest of the week passed and to your complete and utter frustration, Javi still hadn’t turned up. The tiny flicker of anger that had been brewing in your chest had grown considerably, but now it was also mixed with the slightest bit of concern. You found yourself watching the news every day to stay as up to date as you could about what was happening in Colombia, and also just to double check that there weren’t any reports of a DEA agent having been struck down by a cartel member (or a random bolt of lightning). You had even looked up the number of the embassy one night in the phone book and contemplated calling just to ask to see if anyone there happened to know if Javier Peña was alive and well, but you quickly decided against it.

If he didn’t want to see you there was nothing you could really do about it. You weren’t going to beg him to pay attention to you, but a part of you still hoped he would show up one day with a good excuse as to why he had been gone for as long as he had been. And if he didn’t want anything to do with you anymore you felt like he owed it to you as a friend to have the decency to say that to your face. You found yourself fantasizing all sorts of wild scenarios of how that would go, and almost all of them ended with you slapping him in the face which made you feel a little better.

And as you walked to work the following Monday morning to help Raúl with inventory since Manny was out of town with his new girlfriend, you found yourself once again getting lost in yet another wild daydream of kicking Javier in the balls for being such a reclusive asshole. In fact you were so invested in mentally telling him off that you didn’t even notice a familiar Jeep that was parked in front of the bar or the familiar figure that was leaning against it with their arms crossed staring at you intently as you made your way up the street. It wasn’t until you reached into your purse to grab the keys to unlock the front door that you realized you were being watched and when your head snapped up and you locked eyes with Javier you were suddenly frozen in place and your mind went completely blank.

Jesus, had he always been that tall? Or had it been so long since you’d last seen him that you had started to forget all of the little details you had painstakingly memorized about his appearance? And why did he have to be wearing that stupid leather jacket you loved so much? You hated how good he looked under the morning sun standing close enough to that you could reach out and furiously grab at him if you wanted.

Or catch that pouty bottom lip of his between your teeth and not so gently pull on it…

But you weren’t going to do that.

“We’re closed Mondays,” you huffed out as you walked right past him to unlock the door. “You can come back tomorrow and drink.”

“I’m not here to drink, _corazón_.” he said, not moving from where he stood against the driver’s side of his Jeep.

“Well what the fuck do you want then?” you scoffed as you worked your way through the locks on the door.

“To talk,” he said, his voice much closer than before and you knew he was standing right behind you.

“I don’t have time for this Javier,” you said as you opened the door and walked into the empty bar. “Raúl is going to be here in half an hour and I need to get started on the inventory.”

“Hey,” he said as you felt him grab your arm keeping you from moving forward and away from him. “This won’t take long I promise.”

Your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach at his words, and you turned slowly to face him before gently pulling your arm from his hand. If he was really going to tell you he didn’t want to see you anymore, he couldn’t be touching you when he did it. It would hurt too much, and it already hurt enough.

“What is it?” you asked in the steadiest voice you could muster. 

“I wanted to check in and see if you were doing okay.”

Wait.

_What?_

“You…you wanted to check in?” you repeated his words back to him slowly just to make sure you heard them right.

“Yes.”

“To see if I was… _okay_?” you said even slower that time.

“Yes,” he replied with one of his eyebrows raised. “So are you?”

“Okay with _what_?” you asked him coldly as your body began to tremble a little bit with rage. “Okay with you fucking me and then taking off without a word, or okay with the fact that I saw you standing in a street full of corpses after your little shoot out with some drug traffickers? Cause no, I’m not okay with either one of those things, and I am definitely not okay with you just waltzing in here like nothing fucking happened three fucking weeks later!”

“ _Corazón_ ,” he started with a sigh as he rubbed at his face. “I need you to-”

“I swear to fucking god Javier if the next words out of your mouth are ‘calm down’ I’m going to fucking scream.”

“I need you to _listen_ to me!” he shot back. His voice was louder and deeper than you’d ever heard it before and you hated the effect it had on you. You felt a warm spark of arousal within your belly and you couldn’t help but let out a tiny gasp at the feeling.

“I should’ve come here sooner,” he said. His voice was quieter again, though still stern but you realized his frustration wasn’t directed at you. “I’m sorry that I didn’t. And don’t think for a fucking second I was avoiding you because we slept together, alright? That will never be an issue between us and you fucking know it. You saw what I was dealing with that day, and believe it or not that was a fucking breeze compared to how it usually is for me. But I got busy dealing with the aftermath of it and I wasn’t even in Bogotá for the rest of the week because of it.”

“But you’ve been back since then and just too fucking busy to stop by and let me know you’re alive?”

“Yes,” he said as you glared at him. He let out another sigh before he continued. “Yes, I was still busy, but that’s not the only reason I didn’t come to see you.”

 _Oh god it’s really happening_ , you thought. He was actually going to…friend dump you? You felt a sudden wave of nausea overtake you. 

“I didn’t know…” he began before he trailed off and put his hands on his hips and then he tilted his head down to stare at the floor. “Fuck, I didn’t know if you wanted to see me.”

A tense and heavy silence filled the air between the two of you, and you found yourself at a loss for words. Javi was pointedly staring to his left studying the bottles of liquor on the shelf behind the bar. And you could see his jaw locking up the way it did whenever he was frustrated about something.

“Javi…” you whispered his name but he still refused to look at you. “Of course I wanted to see you. How could you ever think that I wouldn’t? I mean, I get _why_ you were worried I might not want to, but you can’t just disappear like that on me, and I mean that. Because…this space…this bar, this is the only way I know you, and it means a lot to me. But fuck Javi we can’t just exist in this place alone. It’s not fair, and I think you know what I mean by that. Seeing you on the street that day, it’s not how I expected our first interaction outside of here to go and-”

“It wasn’t ideal for me either,” he grumbled. “Believe me when I say that wasn’t how I imagined my first time getting to see you outside of this shithole-”

“Hey!”

“Jesus… _Dive bar_ that you work at to go, okay? It was never supposed to be like that, and I never wanted you to have to fucking see me in that type of situation, but that’s how it happened and now we gotta fucking deal with it.”

“We can’t deal with anything if you’re not around to figure shit out with.”

“I know.”

“Are you just saying that so I’ll drop it, or are you saying it because you mean it and you’re not going to pull another disappearing act on me again?”

“I forgot how much you like to bust my balls just for fun c _orazón_.” he said with a humorless laugh.

“Javi,” you said in a voice barely above a whisper. “I need you to answer the question. Because I’m here right now, and I need to know if you’re here with me too.”

He finally turned his head to look at you and you held your breath waiting for him to answer you.

“I’m here,” he replied softly. “I promise you that I’m here.”

“No more hiding?” you asked him.

“No more hiding, c _orazón_. I’m sorry I even did it in the first place.”

“Then prove it,” you mumbled under your breath.

“What was that?”

“I said ‘prove it’,” your voice was louder that time as you stared at him head on as you licked your lips. “Prove to me that you’re sorry.”

Javi’s dark eyes flashed the second you uttered the words and before you even had a chance to blink he closed the gap between you with two quick strides of his long legs as he reached out to grab you by your waist before he crashed his mouth down against yours. You responded to his touch and immediately wrapped your arms over his shoulders and threaded your fingers through his hair to pull him as close to you as possible. The kiss was a bruising clash of teeth and lips and before you knew it he was shoving his tongue into your mouth. 

“I missed you, you asshole.” you murmured against his lips before slipping your tongue into his mouth to run alongside his own. You moaned softly at the feeling and taste of him.

Javi pulled away from you only to tilt his head down so he could nuzzle his way into the crook of your neck and you almost didn’t catch the impossibly quiet “Missed you too,” that fell from his lips before they attached themselves to the soft skin of your throat as he started to leisurely nip his way up and down every part he could reach.

“Come with me,” you gasped out before you squirmed away from him and grabbed his hand to drag him through the bar towards the back hallway where the bathrooms were. Letting him fuck you on the pool table in the middle of the night was one thing, but letting him have his way with you against the bar rail during the daytime near the front windows was a little bit risky even for you. 

You pushed the bathroom door open with a little more force than necessary and then spun around to kiss Javier again. His hands dug into the lower part of your back and the flesh of your ass as the two of you stumbled backwards until your back came in contact with the bathroom stall. You let out a startled yelp at the feeling of the cold metal against your bare legs, which made Javi break the kiss.

“Shit,” he said. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you replied as you went right back to kissing him. “Don’t stop.”

And he didn’t. His mouth never left yours, not even when your purse strap slipped completely off your shoulder and the entire bag fell to the floor with a clattering noise as the contents tumbled out of it. In fact, his mouth didn’t even break contact with yours when you let out a strangled gasping sound when you felt his hand slide between your bodies, up along the bottom edge of your dress, and then past the top of your panties before plunging two of his thick fingers into you. Their entry was smooth and unobstructed from the slickness that had been pooling between your legs since he first started kissing you. 

Javi maneuvered his hand against you slowly and deeply, which resulted in a series of loud moans to come pouring from your mouth that he greedily swallowed, never once pausing his movements. And when your legs began to tremble from the feeling of him tapping his two fingers rhythmically against your sweet spot while he pushed the palm of his hand forward to rub against your clit, he merely pressed his body against you even more to keep you propped up against him and the stall behind you.

How you were already so close to coming was a mystery to you, but you didn’t want to finish yet. Not like this, not without feeling his cock buried deeply inside of you just like you had the last time you had been together. You wanted that familiar ache between your legs for the rest of the day. You wanted to feel him and only him.

So when you began pushing his hand away he was a little perplexed at your actions but he let you guide it out from your underwear before reaching down with your own to cup his erection through his dark jeans. Your touch made him sag forward and he rested his forehead against your own as he exhaled loudly through his nose.

“ _Corazón_ ,” he groaned. “What are you-”

“I want this,” you said as you gave him a squeeze that made his body shudder against yours. “I want to come on this…please Javi.”

He responded with a low growl in his throat before he reached down to bat your hands away from his crotch as he began to undo his belt and then his jeans so quickly his hands were a blur of movement. At the same time you reached up under your dress and pulled your panties down as you lifted your legs up one at a time to step out of them before giving them a gentle kick to get them out of the way. Your eyes caught a glimpse of the spilled contents of your purse and you noticed the condom you carried around was on the floor with everything else. You scooped it up in one fluid motion before rising back up to your full height just in time to see that Javi had his jeans opened and pushed down just enough for his beautifully thick and achingly hard cock to hang out the front of his pants.

“I need you to put this on,” you said as you held the square shaped foil in front of his face. He didn’t say a word, he merely grabbed it from your hand before tearing the condom wrapper open with his teeth, pulling it out and quickly rolling it up his shaft. He gave himself a few quick pumps to make sure it was securely in place before lining himself up with your entrance between your spread legs.

“Lift up your leg for me, baby.” he ordered you softly. You didn’t have to be told twice and raised your right leg up so that it was hooked around his hip and he gripped your thigh locking you in place before letting out a quiet “good girl” and then-

And then he moved his hips forward and thrust all the way into you with one sharp movement that wasn’t nearly as slow as he had been the last time he fucked you. The stretch of his cock filling you so abruptly made you gasp, but before you had time to catch your breath he pulled all the way out before slamming right back into you again.

The pace he set was hard and rough and you couldn’t get enough of it. Each time his hips snapped forward you felt your ass bounce back against the stall so hard the entire thing rattled, the empty bathroom quickly filled with the loud echoes of the stall door swinging open and closed each time Javi fucked his way into you.

You gripped his shoulders with all of your might to try and keep yourself anchored as closely to him as you could while he pounded into you over and over wringing loud moans from deep within you.

“ _Fuck_ ,” his hissed out through clenched teeth. “Baby…you feel so fucking good. I could spend all fucking day inside of you…”

“Javi,” you whined out at the sound of his words. You forgot he had a bit of a mouth on him, and it made you clench around him tightly. “Please don’t stop, don’t you dare fucking stop…”

“I’m not going to stop baby, not until I feel you come all over me just like last time. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” you cried out. You’d do anything he ever asked of you if it meant he’d fuck you like this. “Yes I can come for you, I’m so close..I just… I just need, oh fuck…”

“You can touch yourself. Go ahead, I’ve got you.”

In once synchronized movement you let one hand drop from his shoulder and land on your clit as you began to frantically rub at it with a soft whine just as Javi tightened his grip on your thigh and lifted his other arm up to hook his hand over the top of the stall to use as more leverage to fuck you against it even harder than he already was. He crowded up against you and buried his face in your neck and the sharp sensation of him sinking his teeth into the junction of where it met your shoulder made a choked sob fall from your lips which only spurred him on ever more.

The familiar sound of your blood rushing through your veins took over you and you were seconds away from coming all over Javi’s cock just like he wanted you to, and you could tell he was close as well with how he was no longer pulling out all the way but pushing into you with quick and deep thrusts as he kept his teeth sunk into your neck to muffle his own groans.

You vaguely heard yourself chanting out a breathless chorus of “ _right there, right there_ ” as your body began to seize up in preparation for your orgasm to rip through you, and you heard Javi call out your name in response…only you realized that didn’t make any sense.

Javi’s mouth was still attached to your neck as he sucked a harsh bruise into your skin. And yet you heard your name being called out yet again, only this time it was louder and it sounded like…

It sounded just like…Raúl?

Oh fuck, Raúl.

“Shit!” you cried out in a panic at the realization that you weren’t alone in the bar anymore. “Shit, shit, shit! Javi, Stop, we need to stop!” 

The moment he heard your pleas, his hips stilled mid thrust and he pulled himself out of you and you felt his length that completely drenched in your own arousal twitching against your thigh. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, concern clearly etched on his sweaty face. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, you didn’t. I-I’m fine, you didn’t hear that?”

“Hear what?”

But the sound of Raúl calling your name yet again only this time from directly outside the unlocked bathroom door made Javi curse under his breath as he all but ripped himself away from you just as you heard Raúl softly knock at the door. You stumbled forward and all but flung yourself against the door sliding the lock into the closed position with a panicked squeak.

“Hey _mija_ , are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Raúl everything is fine!” you called out as you scrambled across the floor grabbing your underwear and pulling it back on not bothering to check if it were still inside out from when you had removed it from your body. You heard a sharp hiss of discomfort from the corner and looked up just in time to see Javi toss the condom into the trash next to him as he quickly tucked his still fully erect cock back into his jeans with a look on his face that was akin to murder mixed with a little bit of pain. 

“Are you sure, I thought I heard you yelling?”

“Yes, Raúl! I mean no, I mean- Fuck! Yes I was yelling cause I um, I saw…I saw a…”

“A rat,” Javi mouthed quietly. “Tell him you saw a rat.”

“I’m not going to tell him I saw a fucking rat in his god damn bar Javier!” you hissed back.

“Why not? They’re fucking crawling around all over this shit hole neighborhood.”

“This is _not_ a shit hole neighborhood!”

“ _Mija,_ did you say you saw a rat?” you heard Raúl ask, thankfully interrupting what was quickly shaping up to be the most unexpectedly pathetic first argument you could possibly be having with Javi. “’Cause Manny said he saw one too in the basement but I thought he was just pulling a prank so I ignored him…”

“Uh, yeah..” you said while staring directly at Javi who was nodding at you to keep going. “I saw it in the hallway and freaked out so I locked myself in here…”

“Well stay put! I’ll take a look around for it and I’ll let you know if it’s safe to come out.” You heard Raúl retreat from the door and you buried your face in your hands with an embarrassed yet equally relieved groan.

“I cant believe that just fucking happened.”

“Well, it did.” Javi said as he started patting down his jacket. “Fuck, I need a smoke.”

“You can’t smoke in here!”

“And why not?” 

“Because I only smoke socially, and if you light up Raúl will know someone else is in here with me.”

“Fine,“ he mumbled with a grimace as he reached down to pull at the front of his jeans. The slight bulge of his half hard cock still very apparent. He stared down at you kneeling on the floor and his face softened at the sight of you. 

“Come on baby, let’s get you off the floor.” he said as he reached a hand out which you grasped immediately so he could help pull you up. Only once you were standing he pulled you into his arms and buried his face in your hair and you felt him breathe you in as he held you tightly.

“Do you think he heard us?” you asked pitifully as you let yourself rest against his broad chest as the familiar smell of his cologne washed over you. The rich notes of sandalwood and amber mixed with something spicy you still couldn’t place filled your head.

“Probably,’ Javi said. “You were being pretty loud.”

“Don’t be a dick,” you muttered as you pinched his waist which made him tense up and pull back enough to stare down at you with an annoyed expression.

“Don’t do that.”

“Sorry,” you pouted up at him before you lightly kissed his chin. “What if I promised to make it up to you later?”

“You want me to come back here later tonight and go for round two of fucking you in the bathroom at your work?”

“I think we might actually need to take a break from fucking at my work.”

“That’s fair,” he mused as he let his hands slide down past your hips so he could squeeze your ass. “We could always give it a try at the embassy, give me a chance to take advantage of you in my territory.”

“I was thinking you could take advantage of me in your bed for once,” you replied. “Or mine if you don’t want me to see your super secret bachelor pad just yet.”

“There are some pretty big perks of doing it in a bed,” he admitted before smirking down at you. “Like the fact that I would finally be able to actually fuck you the way I’ve been meaning to.”

Your thighs clenched at his words and based on the way he was looking at you, you knew without a doubt he was being one hundred percent serious. 

“Well, I’m only in today to help Raúl with inventory and put away a large order we’re getting so I won’t have to be here all night. Do you have to go to work today?”

“Yeah,” Javi sighed. “I was on my way there this morning before I decided to stop and see if you were going to be here. I guess I got lucky that you were.”

“You know, it would be kind of nice if we didn’t only get to see each other just because we get lucky from randomly crossing paths. Or if I had any way of contacting you whatsoever really…”

Javi released you from his embrace and reached into his back pocket to pull out his wallet, which he then opened and rummaged around in before pulling out a piece of paper. He slipped his wallet back into his jeans before reaching into an inner pocket of his leather jacket and pulled out a pen. He turned away from you and held the paper up against the stall he had been slamming you up against only moments earlier and began scribbling out something that you couldn’t read. When he finished he turned back around to face you and held the paper out for you to take. You stared down and saw two lines of numbers and your heart skipped a beat at the sight of them.

“Work,” he said as he tapped the top line with his pen before trailing it down to tap at the other one right below it. “Home. The work number is a direct line to my desk, so you should try that one first when you’re done here. Or in general really, I’m basically living at the embassy these days.”

“So what you’re saying is I should call you later today…or any time for that matter?”

“Yeah,” he said with a shrug as he put his pen back in his pocket. “If you felt like it. No pressure though.”

“Did you want mine?” you asked.

“I’ll get it from you later,” he replied before leaning down to give you a quick kiss. “Right now I need to leave because I’m already late enough as it is.”

“Oh god, please be careful when you sneak out so Raúl doesn’t catch you.”

“I’m DEA, remember?” he said in mock offense. “You think I can’t sneak out of a bar without your boss noticing? Have a little faith in me c _orazón_.”

“Just make sure you go out through the side entrance that leads towards the alley.”

Javier lifted a hand to his forehead to give you a mock salute and a wink before he headed for the bathroom door. You heard the lock click and as he opened it just a crack to peer out to see if the cost was clear, you whispered his name. He glanced over his shoulder to look back at you waiting for whatever it was you had to say.

“You and me…we’re, we’re okay…right?” you asked hopefully.

“Yeah, c _orazón_ ,” he said softly. “We’re okay. Oh, and whatever you do, don’t lose that paper. It’s kind of important.”

“I’m not going to lose your precious phone numbers, Javi.” you said as you rolled your eyes.

“Who said anything about the phone numbers?” he asked with a smirk, and before you had a chance to ask him what he meant he slipped out of the bathroom without another word. You heard the side entrance door open just as you turned the paper over to see that he had written his phone numbers on the same piece of paper that held the unfinished game of hangman you two had started all those weeks ago. You couldn’t believe he still had it.

You felt your eyes water and you couldn’t help but let out a weak, and slightly watery chuckle under your breath.

“I think we’re okay too,” you whispered to the empty room.


	8. Chapter 8

Four hours and thirty-seven minutes. **  
**

That’s how long it had been since Javier had left you a flustered, and painfully unfulfilled mess in the bathroom at work. Just a measly four hours and thirty-seven minutes since he had slipped out the door with a smirk and a gleam in his eyes that you hadn’t stopped thinking about all afternoon, even though you _technically_ had more important things to worry about. Like getting an accurate count of how many bottles of spiced rum were currently stashed behind the bar. But every time you tapped your pen against the lid of a bottle you seemed to fall into a trance of some sort, and you would once again find yourself getting lost in the memory of Javi fucking you against the bathroom stall. And then you’d lose your place mid-count and have to start all over again with a frustrated sigh as you clenched your thighs together, desperate for even the slightest source of relief for the wet ache that was still _very_ apparent between your legs.

It had been without a doubt, the longest and most excruciating four hours and thirty-seven, wait…scratch that, thirty- _eight_ minutes of your life. 

Not that you were counting of course.

And Raúl being far too observant as usual noticed your seemingly bad mood continue to grow as the day went on. Every time you sighed he’d ask if you were okay, and you’d respond with a barely believable yes before quickly scurrying off to find something else for you to count that was as far away from his wary gaze as you could get without seeming _too_ suspicious. But you had a feeling he wasn’t buying it, and the fact that he had also asked you multiple times to describe your encounter with the rat you’d supposedly seen earlier in the day made you think he knew you were lying about that too.

Thankfully, the massive liquor order Raúl had been waiting on all afternoon finally showed up and had taken over his undivided attention ever since. The bar was blissfully silent except for the sounds of you scribbling down numbers on your notepad and Raúl sorting through which bottles of liquor he wanted to keep behind the bar and which ones he was going to carry down into the basement later. 

“Are you hungry _mija_?” he asked suddenly. As if on cue your stomach let out a shockingly loud growl, and you stood up from behind the bar with a hand on your belly as Raúl laughed at the slightly panicked expression on your face. 

“Yeah,” you replied, realizing you hadn’t had anything to eat except for the small handful of berries you’d snacked on while getting ready for work that morning. “I’m kind of starving actually.”

“How about I run around the corner and grab us some lunch from that sandwich shop? It’s the least I can do since I’ve kept you here later than I said I would today.”

“Oh, that sounds amazing actually,” you all but moaned out. “I’ll eat anything you decide to bring back here.”

“Of course _mija_ ,” he said as he grabbed his straw fedora from the bar rail before placing it on his balding head. “Anything for you. Make yourself a drink and take a break, okay? I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Thanks boss,” you replied as you set the notepad down on the counter next to the register before grabbing yourself a rocks glass and filling it with ice. You heard the front door open and close signalling Raúl’s departure from the bar just as you finished making yourself a _cuba libre_. You leaned against the cash register and sipped at it, enjoying a few peaceful moments by yourself. As you crossed your arms over your chest, you felt a slight scratching sensation in your bra and with a quiet hum of discomfort you reached your hand in through your dress and the lace cup of your bra to pull out the paper that you’d kept carefully tucked away from any harm all day.

You gently unfolded the paper to glance down at the numbers that Javi had hastily scrawled out four hours and forty-four minutes earlier (again, you definitely _weren’t_ counting) and traced your thumb over them with a soft smile before glancing over at the phone on the wall to your left as you nibbled at your bottom lip while deep in though. You raised your glass and took a considerably larger sip of your drink.

“Fuck it,” you said as you reached for the phone.

With the receiver tucked between your ear and your shoulder, you held the paper up so you could dial the correct numbers, though you didn’t need to really look at it considering you’d already memorized them by heart, and slowly punched them onto the keypad one by one until you got to the last digit. There was a moment of silence and then you heard the very first ring go through the line as you nervously swirled the contents of your nearly empty glass. The second ring had barely finished when you heard a click and then the sounds of a busy office in the background, followed by a very blunt and unamused voice grumbling out one word. 

_“Peña.”_

You couldn’t help but let out a tiny snort at the way Javier answered your call in the same way you assumed he answered every other one he received while at work. 

“Well, hello to you too.”

There was a brief pause and then the sounds of the embassy became muffled no doubt from Javi using one of his large hands to partially cover the mouthpiece of his handset for the sake of some privacy.

 _“Well this is a nice surprise corazón,”_ he said and you couldn’t help but notice the subtle shift in his tone upon realizing you were the one on the other end of the line. _“How are things going at the bar? Seen any other rats scurrying around?”_

You could practically hear the smirk he was wearing through the phone, but two could play at that game. 

“No,” you mused as you twisted the phone cord around your index finger. “Just that big one in the leather jacket that scurried out of the bathroom earlier.”

 _“Ouch,”_ you heard him mumble as the distinct sound of him lighting a cigarette filled the receiver. _“And here I thought all was forgiven between us.”_

“I never once said the words ‘I forgive you Javier’ when we saw each other this morning,” you reminded him. 

_“No, but you came pretty close I thought…”_

“Oh ha ha,” you laughed in a mocking tone. “I forgot how much of a comedian you were.”

 _“Is there a particular reason for this phone call?”_ he asked as you heard him take a long drag from his cigarette. _“Because there are some people who would frown upon a civilian calling to waste the time of a government agent who is **very** busy at work.”_

“Are you one of those people?” you asked. “Because you definitely have the frown for it.”

_“Jesus, you really are still mad at me huh?”_

“I haven’t seen you in three weeks Javi, I have a lot of lost time to make up for…what was it you said? Oh yeah, ‘busting your balls for fun’.”

Silence filled the line and if it weren’t for the faint and muffled background noise of his office you would’ve thought the call had gotten disconnected, or worse, he had hung up on you.

“Javi?” you asked tentatively. “Are you still there?”

 _“Yeah,”_ he replied. _“I’m still here.”_

“I was just kidding,” you said as you anxiously pulled at the cord that was now wrapped tightly around one of your hands. “Well, I mean, I’m sort of kidding. But I promise I’m not as mad as I was earlier.”

_“You have every right to be.”_

“Oh,” you said lamely, unsure of what else to respond with. You knew he was right, and a part of you was glad that he knew it too.

 _“I **am** sorry corazón,”_ Javi breathed through the line, the richness of his baritone flooded through the earpiece and sent a shiver down your spine almost like he was there with you in person and whispering the words directly into the shell of your ear. _“I really do mean that. And if your offer from before still stands, I’d like to prove to you just how sorry I am…if you wanted me to that is.”_

“My offer?” you replied in a hushed voice suddenly aware that you were holding your breath and pressing your thighs together again for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

 _“Yeah, your offer…”_ he said. His voice was even lower than it was before and through the thick haze of arousal you felt yourself slowly drowning in, you couldn’t help but admire just how daring he was being considering it was the middle of his work day at the fucking US embassy with a flurry of activity going on all around him. _“Something that involved being taken advantage of in your bed. But it’s been a long day, and I could just be imagining things…”_

“No,” you sighed out as you let yourself sag against the counter wishing he was pressed up against you and trailing his hands against your hips. “You definitely didn’t imagine that.”

 _“Oh good,”_ he said and you could tell that he was smirking again. _“Just wanted to double check.”_

“Javi,” you warned. “Don’t be an asshole.” 

He let out a quiet chuckle and to your utter frustration you heard the sounds of him loudly shuffling through some papers. The fact that he was still able to work while simultaneously riling you up with such ease only made you wish that you could be with him even more.

“So are you planning on coming over tonight then?” you asked.

 _“Oh,”_ he said feigning surprise. _“Did you want me to?”_

“Javier, I swear to god…”

_“Relax corazón, I’ll be there. What time do you think you’ll be home?”_

“Um, I don’t know. At this point probably 6:30 or so.”

_“Alright, I could probably slip out of here by 7:30 and be at your place around 8 if that works for you?”_

“Yeah, that works for me. Do you need my address?”

 _“No need,”_ he said. _“I remember how to get there from last time.”_

“I’m surprised,” you said, and you actually meant it. “That night feels like it happened forever ago at this point.” **  
**

 _“It does,”_ he agreed. _“But that doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about it from time to time.”_

“I’ve thought about it too,” you murmured softly, though you know he heard you because the sound of him sorting through paperwork stopped suddenly. “From time to time…”

 _“What else do you think about?”_ he asked in that same teasing tone he had used on you that night at the bar when you first slept together. You forgot how much you had missed it. 

“I don’t think it would be appropriate for me to say while you’re on the phone at work…”

 _“Try me,”_ he said as you heard him shifting to lean back in his chair. You could vividly picture how he must’ve looked to his colleagues, leisurely stretched out at his desk wearing that expert poker face he could so casually break out at the drop of a hat. To anyone who might’ve been watching him, he probably looked like he was bored out of his mind on yet another work call that day. And as much as you wanted to indulge Javi by going into explicit detail about what other things you thought about doing that involved him, deep down you also knew that this wasn’t the time or the place to casually partake in a brief session of afternoon phone sex. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t attempt to get Javi as worked up as he’d made you feel over the short span of your phone call. **  
**

“Why don’t you ask me nicely?” you finally replied in the softest yet most commanding voice possible. The sharp inhale you heard through the line followed by Javier saying your real name in a low warning made you smile like a fool and you had to bite at your bottom lip to keep from letting out a pleased laugh. Before you had a chance to tease him any further, the sound of the front door to the bar being pushed open made your shoulders droop ever so slightly and you couldn’t help but let out a disappointed sigh.

_“Let me guess, your boss just popped up again?”_

“That would correct,” you said as you turned to face Raúl as he finished walking up to the bar rail with a giant carryout bag that he began to unload right in front of you. Apparently he had decided to order enough food to feed a small army.

_“Do me a favor and tell him I appreciate his impeccable timing as always.”_

“Don’t be an asshole,” you reminded him.

 _“Yeah, yeah…”_ Javi grumbled as you heard a frustrated voice from his end suddenly bark out his last name. _“I gotta go anyway, the hillbilly just got back from a meeting with the ambassador and he’s demanding my attention.”_

“Well you better not keep him waiting,” you laughed while watching Raúl carefully unwrap and organize all of the food in a neat line for the two of you. “I’ll see you later tonight.”

 _“Yeah, tonight.”_ Javi said. All traces of humor were gone from his voice, though you didn’t take offense. You knew that despite his abrupt reversal back into work mode, that was his way of saying “ _goodbye_ _corazón_ ”. 

The last thing you heard before Javier hung up his phone was a very annoyed Steve asking _“Did you just call me a fuckin’ **hillbilly**?”_

“Important phone call _mija_?” Raúl asked as he took his hat off and hung it on the back of the bar stool he was sitting in.

“No,” you said proud of how nonchalant you sounded as you hung up the phone before reaching in the cooler by your legs to grab a bottle of Raúl’s favorite beer he kept secretly stashed towards the back. You opened it and set it down in front of him with a smile. “I was just saying hello to a friend.”

“I see,” Raúl said as he grabbed the bottle. “And was this the same friend who was in the bathroom with you this morning?”

You felt the blood drain from your face as a wave of ice cold panic washed through your veins in place of it. Raúl merely took a large swig of beer with a knowing look in his eyes as you opened and closed your mouth repeatedly, though no sound came out. And every time you repeated that movement, Raúl’s smile grew wider and wider until the edges of his golden molars were visible. 

Oh, how you wanted to deny it. More than anything in the whole wide world you wanted to feign ignorance and act like an idiot who had no idea what Raúl was talking about. But you knew you couldn’t, you owed it to him and yourself to be honest about what had happened. 

“How did you know?” you asked, hoping against hope that somehow your boss hadn’t actually heard you getting your brains fucked out in the bathroom of the bar he’d owned for nearly twenty-five years. 

“Like I said, I thought I heard ‘ _yelling_ ’,” he laughed as he curled his index and middle fingers on both hands into quotation marks as he said that last word. You could’ve sworn you felt your soul leave your body at his admission and you were suddenly very aware at how heavy your arms felt as they dangled loosely at your sides. You couldn’t believe this was happening to you. 

“You…oh god you _heard_ us?” you finally croaked out.

Raúl let out one of his infamously booming laughs as he slapped the bar rail so hard that the buffet of sandwiches and sides he had so careful set up actually shifted a few centimetres from the impact. You merely stood in agonized silence as you watched your boss cackle himself to the point of tears, waiting for the moment he’d finally calm down so you could tell him that you would be quitting effective immediately. 

“Oh my god, _mija_ **_relax_**!” he wheezed out as he wiped the tears from his eyes. “I heard _something_ , but I wasn’t close enough to make it out. My hearing isn’t what it used to be you know. At first I thought you were listening to one of those portable radio thingamajigs you kids carry around these days, but then when I got closer to the door I heard a _real_ man’s voice talking and I realized there was actually someone in there with you.”

“So, you…you…didn’t…you didn’t hear me having-”

“I didn’t hear you having _anything_ ,” Raúl said while he picked up half of a sandwich and took a large bite out of it before he continued. “I don’t need to know what it was you were doing in there, because it’s not my business, though that great big love bite on your neck gives me a good idea of what you were up to..”

Your hand slapped against the side of your neck that Javier had dug his teeth into earlier, and you found that the skin felt warm and tender to your touch. In your rush to get started on your work, you had completely forgotten about the possibility of him having left a mark on you. The knowledge that you had been walking around all day flaunting a giant hickey on your neck in front of your boss without realizing it made you wish the earth would just open up and swallow you whole. 

“I’m so sorry Raúl,” you cried out in a mortified wail. “Oh my god, I’m _so_ fucking sorry! I don’t know what came over me. I just…oh god I hadn’t seen him in so long and he showed up here unexpectedly, and believe it or not I was furious at him for basically ignoring me for almost a month, though he also wasn’t _technically_ ignoring me, but still-”

“ _Mija_ -” Raúl started to interrupt you, but you couldn’t be stopped.

“No, please don’t. I feel so fucking bad. I shouldn’t have done that here. That was super inappropriate and I totally understand if you want to fire me, but please don’t. I l _ove_ this job, I’m so thankful to have it, and I’ll work for free for a whole month if you want me to just to prove how sorry I am. And-”

“ _Mija_!” Raúl yelled out in a voice that was so loud, you actually recoiled from the sound. “You’re giving me a fucking headache with how fast you’re talking. Just calm the fuck down, and eat a fucking sandwich okay?”

You opened your mouth to continue spewing forth yet another rambling apology, but before you had a chance to get so much as another word in, Raúl picked up half of a grilled cheese, reached across the bar, and shoved it in your open mouth. You bit down out of reflex more than anything and Raúl pulled the rest of the sandwich away before setting it back down on top of the brown paper it had been wrapped in.

“Chew your food before you choke,” he said as he took another sip of his beer. Not knowing what else to do, you did as you were told and chewed in silence as you stared at your boss wondering if your entire day had been some sort of wild hallucination brought on by stress. 

“You’re not getting fired,” Raúl finally said. “And you’re not allowed to work for free, or quit, or offer any other stupid suggestions to make up for you fooling around in the bathroom with someone, just as long as you _don’t_ do it again. Okay?”

“Oh…okay?” you offered meekly. Raúl seemed content with your answer, and then made an exaggerated gesture at all of the food that was laid out between the two of you signaling that he wanted you to continue eating. You grabbed the same piece of grilled cheese he had shoved in your mouth and took a much smaller bite as you stared at your boss in confused silence.

“In case you’ve forgotten,” Raúl said as he reached over to grab a container filled with some sort of rice and meat before digging a plastic fork into it. “A certain idiot by the name of Emmanuel De la Vega has worked at my bar for six and a half years now. And believe me when I say that I have caught said idiot in far more embarrassing circumstances _many_ different times. And somehow by the grace of god I still can’t bring myself to fire that boy. So why on earth would I get rid of you for doing something I’ve let him get away with more than once?”

“Wait, are you telling me that Manny has…”

“Basically everywhere except my pool table,” Raúl said while rolling his eyes. “It’s a family heirloom, and I’d have to kill him if he ever defiled that. At least now he has the decency to keep it in his pants these days when he’s at work, though I did catch him making out with that girl he’s been seeing in the alleyway the other week.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look Raúl in the eye as a new wave of guilt erupted in your chest over the fact that you and Javier had had sex on a precious family heirloom in the bar. It was a secret you decided you needed to the grave. You just needed to convince Celia to do the same next time you saw her.

“Just tell me _mija_ ,” Raúl said in an oddly somber voice as he absentmindedly pushed his fork around in the rice. “The man that was in there with you…he didn’t happen to be one of those _sicario_ bastards that pops up in here from time to time, was he?”

“What?” you cried out in shock as you choked down a bite of food. “ _No,_ absolutely not! I would never, _ever_ , fuck around with one of those assholes in _any_ way.”

“My daughter said the same thing once,” Raúl sighed. “But men like that are capable of worming their way into the lives of anyone they want to, once they set their sights on them.”

“Wait, you have a daughter?” you asked. “I thought Tito was your only child.”

“He is now.”

The half chewed sandwich that was sitting in your mouth suddenly lost all of its flavor, and felt like heavy mush that was weighing down your tongue. You forced yourself to swallow it even though you wanted nothing more than to spit it out in the trash. Raúl finally let go of the plastic fork and had his very tan and very hairy arm resting on the bar rail as he stared down at his gold watch in a perfect silence that broke your heart. 

You already knew a little bit about Raúl and his family, most of it he had shared with you late into the night when you had first started working for him over countless shots of _aguardiente_ and seemingly endless laughter. You knew that he was originally from Cuba, he had six older sisters, and he had met his wife Mariana in Bogotá when he was nineteen. You knew about the now legendary game of cards he had played in 1965 that somehow resulted in him _winning_ The Monarch Club from an Englishman who had honestly been more than happy to finally be rid of the dump. And you also knew that for some reason he had all but stopped growing when he was only thirteen years old, but he always stood tall with the pride and the height of a man three times his size. And yet right now you had never seen him look so small or so frail, and you didn’t know what to make of it.

“My daughter Claudia…” he finally said in a quiet voice that was heavy with sadness. “Was killed three years ago in a shooting while she was at a party.”

“I’m so sorry,” you said, feeling hopeless that you weren’t able to offer him anything else. You couldn’t fathom the pain he must’ve learned to live with over the past few years after losing his only daughter. He hid it so well you never even would’ve guessed he carried it within him.

“So am I.” 

“Was she…” you stopped yourself before continuing, unsure if he would consider your unspoken question an insulting invasion of privacy. Though he merely looked up at you with sad eyes before nodding.

“She became involved with a young man,” he said with a grimace, like he wanted to call him something else entirely. “A foolish, and greedy young man, who worked -and to this day I’m still not sure in exactly what capacity- for Escobar. I doubt he was important enough to know him personally, and I’d be surprised if he’d ever actually met him, but he was in deep enough with the cartel that he never would’ve been able to get out of it with his life. Claudia was too in love with him to see that, and in the end she died for it.”

“What happened to the guy she was seeing?”

“He survived,” Raúl said as if he still couldn’t believe that such a thing was even possible. “Six people died that night, and three were injured including him, and yet he survived. These days…I have no idea if he’s still alive. And to be honest, as awful as it sounds, a part of me hopes it all caught up to him eventually and that maybe he’s finally gone for good.”

“Is that why you always order them to leave whenever they show up in the bar?” you asked, suddenly realizing why Raúl always got so worked up when he found out another _sicario_ had somehow managed to get away with drinking at his bar and using his pool table, laughing and joking, and flaunting their money, all while flirting with the young cocktail waitresses who helped out on busier nights. It must’ve been like a slap in the face to him, and the worst part was that they probably didn’t even bother to ask why he hated them so much. And if they did, you doubted they cared enough to stop coming in to The Monarch out of respect to the man who owned it, even though he had only ever shown you and everyone else he met nothing but kindness, despite the fact that he had lost so much.

“Yes,” he replied as he began to pick at the label of his beer bottle with his thumb. “I don’t want their dirty money. And I don’t want them coming in here and hurting anyone else I care about. I can’t stop that from happening outside these walls, but here? Here, I have a say in it. It’s _my_ kids who are working behind this bar every single day, and I refuse to lose another one of you because of Escobar’s war.” 

“Do you hate him?” you asked, though Raúl seemed confused by who exactly you meant. “Escobar, do you hate him for everything he’s done?”

“I hate…” Raúl sighed before pausing to gather his thoughts. “I hate…what he represents now. I hate that like most powerful men, he fell victim to his own greed and arrogance and became something far worse than he originally set out to be, and this country has had to pay the price. I hate that he promised change and instead he only brought carnage. I hate that years from now after he dies, because one day he _will_ die by someone’s hand, no doubt because of his own foolishness, it’ll be his name that people will whisper in their homes and in the bars. Not my Claudia’s, or anyone else’s who died because of him. This entire city could turn into a graveyard, and still the only person the world will choose to remember is him. And I think that’s what I hate the most. It’s hard enough as it is to live in Escobar’s shadow, how can we be expected to mourn in it as well once he’s finally gone?”

“I’ll remember her,” you blurted out, hoping he knew that you truly meant it. “For as long as I live, I’ll remember your daughter.”

“Oh, my darling girl,” Raúl whispered with a watery smile. “It’s not your job to help carry an old man’s grief.”

“You’re not _that_ old,” you said as you reached for the nearest bottle of _aguardiente_ and two shot glasses, feeling overcome with the urge to be doing something with your hands. A heavy sense of déjà vu filled you as you poured the liquor with a surprisingly steady hand. “And besides, I don’t consider it a job to be there for my family when they need me.”

You carefully placed a shot glass in Raúl’s thick hand as he studied you intently with red rimmed eyes. You were sure your own were just as watery as his, but you were determined to not look away from him. Not after he had shared such a deeply personal part of himself with you.

“You’re a good girl, _mija_.” he finally said and the trembling sound of his voice made your bottom lip quiver against your will. Not knowing what to say to comfort him without bursting into tears, you merely raised your glass in your hand and in the steadiest voice you decided to toast the one person who deserved to be in the room with you two more than anything.

“To Claudia.”

“To Claudia…” He said as he raised his own glass to cheers you. You both took your shots and then loudly set your empty glasses down on the bar rail, letting out matching hissing sounds under your breath as the familiar burning sensation of the clear liquid worked its way down your throats and into your bellies. Neither one of you said anything for a while, and you couldn’t help yourself from reaching across the bar to grab Raúl’s warm and rough hand in your own. You purposefully turned your head to look out the window when you heard him let out a loud sniffle that turned into a throaty sob, wanting to offer him some privacy in case he didn’t want you to see him cry, your own tears falling in silent solidarity with his own. After a few moments, you heard him clear his throat loudly and give your hand a firm squeeze.

“I think she would’ve really liked you,” you heard him say. With your free hand you wiped at your wet cheeks and turned to face Raúl. His eyes were slightly bloodshot, though thankfully not as sad as they had been. You ignored the faint tightness in your own from the tears you had shed, and the ones you had locked away for another time.

“Really?” you asked with a soft smile.

“Yes, really.” he replied. “She especially would’ve liked that you can handle doing shots of _aguardiente_ without making one of those ridiculous cringing faces that only cowards who can’t handle their booze do.”

The laugh that escaped you was so loud and unexpected that you covered your mouth with your hand in surprise, but it only made you laugh even harder and soon Raúl’s own booming one was joining yours.

“I think that calls for another shot,” you suggested, once again wiping tears from your eyes though thankfully for a much different reason.

“I think you’re right,” Raúl said as he reached for the bottle of and poured you both another round. The two of you raised your glasses once again in perfect unison and smiled at one another. 

Despite the fact The Monarch Club had a long standing reputation of being nothing more than the shittiest dive bar in all of Bogotá, you couldn’t help but find yourself incredibly thankful to have stumbled across it all those months ago when you were just trying to stay afloat and make sense of yourself. And even though a part of you was positively buzzing at the thought of getting to see Javier in a just few short hours, you knew at that exact moment there was absolutely nowhere else you’d rather be.

“I’m really glad I walked into your bar this summer, Raúl.”

“I’m really glad you did too, _mija_.”

“To The Monarch?” you suggested with a little shrug of your shoulders.

“To The Monarch,” Raúl nodded in agreement as he brought his shot down to the bar to knock it against the wood before bringing it back up to his lips “Long may it reign.”

* * *

Unsurprisingly, Raúl had sent you home shortly after your second round of shots together, and you didn’t bother to argue with him to let you stay and help finish cleaning up the bar. You could tell he was emotionally drained from sharing with you what had happened to Claudia, and he obviously needed some time alone with his thoughts. You didn’t blame him, after all having to relive that loss must’ve felt like he was tearing himself apart all over again. The least you could do was give him some privacy to mourn his daughter. Before you left you pressed a quick kiss to his soft cheek, hoping he knew that it meant he had your eternal love and support, before you exited the eerily quiet bar and began your journey home. **  
**

The moment you walked into your apartment you immediately kicked off your shoes, tossed your purse in the general vicinity of your couch, and set to work tidying up as best you could. You had a feeling that Javi wasn’t the type of person to be put off by a little bit of clutter here and there, but you couldn’t help but feel like you wanted to impress him just a little bit with your living space.

Or at the very least trick him into thinking that you were a somewhat relatively well put together adult who seemed like they had a _little_ bit of their shit together.

So you did the dishes that you had been putting off for over a week, swept and mopped both the kitchen and the bathroom, vacuumed the rug in your living room, and actually put away your laundry _and_ made your bed for the first time in god knew how long. After you had finished cleaning your apartment to the best of your abilities (aka, after you got _bored_ with cleaning), you decided to shift your focus on getting yourself ready instead.

It wasn’t until you were halfway through drying your hair after getting out of the shower that you realized just how oddly calm you felt over everything. Sure your very skin felt like it was vibrating as it got closer and closer to 8:00 p.m., but for once it was out of excitement, not nervousness. The butterflies you felt whenever you thought about Javier were still alive and well, but their energy had shifted into something that was much more bearable for you. And while you still weren’t entirely sure if what you two had planned for the evening counted as an actual date of sorts or just a chance to hang out and fuck, you found yourself not really caring how to define it. All that mattered was that you were going to see him, like actually fucking _see_ him outside of the bar for the first time ever. And you’d gladly take that in whatever capacity it meant. 

You honestly never thought the day would finally come. Between your equally busy and conflicting work schedules, and Javi’s notoriously secretive nature, a part of you always assumed that nothing like this would ever actually happen. And you’d be lying if you said that a tiny part of you wasn’t entirely convinced that he would somehow find a reason to bail on you at the last minute. But you did your best to focus your attention on doing your makeup and getting dressed rather than listening to that nagging little voice inside your head. 

You had just finished tying the sash of your dress around your waist when the unexpected sound of a shrill buzz crackled loudly from the intercom next to your front door and made you freeze in place as you stared down the dimly lit entryway as the sound continued for a few more seconds before stopping abruptly. As if you were on autopilot, you felt yourself all but glide your way down the hall and towards the small metal box that once again buzzed for your attention. 

Someone was impatient.

“Javi?” you breathed into the speaker as soon as your finger made contact with the silver button. You knew it had to be him, the only other person who ever came to visit you at your apartment was Celia, and she would always forgo using the intercom system in favor of just yelling your name up in the direction of your living room window to announce her arrival, much to your neighbors’ annoyance and your embarrassment. 

“ _Yes corazón_ ,” Javi’s voice crackled through the box making him sound like he was speaking to you through a tin can on a string. “ _Are you going to buzz me in?_ ”

“Yes, of course hold on.” you replied before sliding your finger over to press the button that would unlock the front door. You pulled yourself away from the intercom and reached down to smooth out your dress for what felt like the millionth time that night. And as you listened to the sound of Javier’s heavy footsteps slowly working their way up the stairs from the first floor, a sense of giddy relief washed over you.

 _This was really fucking happening_ , you thought as you heard him make it past the final step at the top of the stairs with a loud creak. He was actually here, and seconds away from setting foot inside your apartment…and you were just going to let it happen. Before he had a chance to knock even once against the heavy wood that separated the two of you from each other, you opened the door. And there he was, standing in front of you with his right hand raised in a tight fist which he slowly dropped at the sight of you. His shoulders looked even broader than normal, and you couldn’t tell if it was from the way the lights in the main hallway behind him were illuminating his tall figure, or maybe your door was just far narrower than you’d ever realized. 

“Hi,” you said quietly.

“Hi,” he repeated in a hushed tone that matched yours.

And then, in a blur of movement, Javier all but barreled his way in through your front door with his hands wrapped tightly around your hips as he pushed you back into your apartment, kicking the door closed behind him without a second glance. Your back was pressed up against the entryway wall as he leaned down and kissed you so deeply you felt it in your toes. He smelled like the night air mixed with his cigarettes and the faint remainder of his cologne and all of those things clung to his leather jacket almost as desperately as you did.

“I like your dress,” he mumbled against your lips before slipping his tongue back into your mouth with a hum of contentment. 

“Thanks,” you gasped as you broke the kiss to try and catch your breath for even just a second, though Javi didn’t seem like he needed to breathe at all. He trailed his mouth under your jaw and along your throat and kissed you everywhere he could reach.

“No more biting on the neck,” you warned though you weren’t sure if you really meant it. “You already left a mark earlier today and Raúl called me out on it.”

“So what you’re saying…” he said as he let his head dip down so he could press his mouth over the exposed slope of your cleavage that your dress didn’t quite cover, before gently nipping at the soft flesh causing you to arch your back off the wall with a quiet whine. “…Is no more leaving marks where other people can see them?”

“I didn’t realize you had such a thing for biting,” you said in a shuddery breath as you watched him pull down the top of your dress so that one of your breasts was completely exposed. He smirked at the sight of your pert nipple before running his thumb across the top of it.

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me _corazón_.” 

Before you even had a chance to ask him what the _fuck_ he possibly could’ve meant by that particular statement, he wrapped his lips around the front of your breast and let his teeth latch on to the tender bud, and gave it a slight tug.

“ _Javiiiiiiiiii!”_ you hissed out as you threaded your hands through his dark hair while arching your back even further off the wall so you could press your chest closer to his face. The sharp sting from his bite flooded your senses, and you could already tell you were starting to soak through your panties and he’d barely even touched you yet. 

It was almost as if your body had suddenly remembered just how painfully close you’d been to cumming earlier in the day, and it was picking right back up where you had been forced to leave off. You wanted everything he had to give you and more, and you were desperate for him to use his hands, his mouth, and his cock, in any way he wanted to as long as it it meant you’d finally get to cum like you’d been dying to all day.

You pulled his head back by his hair to signal you wanted him to remove his mouth from your nipple, which made him groan lowly in his throat, before he released his grip on you. You could already tell the skin surrounding it was darker than it had been, and it glistened with his saliva in the dim overhead light of the entryway. 

“Is something wrong?” Javi asked you while trailing his hands along the front of your dress as he tugged at the sash that held it together. The familiar teasing gleam in his eyes made you painfully aware that he was fucking with you on purpose. 

“This isn’t a bed,” you grumbled as you caught his larger hands in your own to stop him from taking off your clothes. “And I was promised we’d be doing this in one of those.”

“Well, I can’t exactly make good on that promise if I don’t know where your bedroom is.” he said while he pointedly raised one of his eyebrows at you. 

“You literally pushed your way in here and pressed me up against a wall before I had a chance to tell you!”

“And _you_ literally didn’t even try and stop me from doing that.”

“Oh my god Javier,” you groaned as you sagged against the wall. “Why are you like this?”

“Come on _corazón_ ,” he all but cooed while placing a soft kiss against the corner of your mouth. “There’s no need to pout.”

“I’m _not_ pouting,” you huffed, knowing that you were in fact doing exactly what he had just accused you of.

“Yes you are,” he said as he once again began pulling at your dress, only this time you didn’t try to stop him. “Just show me where your room is, and I promise I’ll give you plenty of reasons not to.”

Something about the way he said those words made your heart skip a beat, and you suddenly remembered what he had told you in the bathroom at the bar, and it began to play on repeat like a mantra in your head:

_Fuck you the way I’ve been meaning to._

_Fuck you the way I’ve been meaning to._

_Fuck you the way I’ve been meaning to._

“Follow me,” you said, as you grabbed his hand and dragged him behind you through your living room and towards the back hallway that led to your bedroom. You yanked him in and shut the door before pushing him back against it and kissing him with everything you had. 

Your hands went straight to his broad shoulders and you pushed his leather jacket off letting it fall to the floor with a soft thump before bringing your hands back towards his chest as your fingers worked their way down the front of his dark blue shirt as you quickly began to open it, happy that half of the work was already done for you thanks to Javi’s unfailing inability to properly button up his shirts. Javi shrugged it off in one quick movement and it joined his leather jacket in the growing pile of discarded clothing at your feet. Though he seemed too focused on taking off your dress to notice that you were intently staring at his bare torso. 

Inch after inch of smooth tan skin was standing in front of you begging to be touched, and you found yourself consumed with an overwhelming urge to kiss and lick your way down his toned chest, to the soft slope of his little belly until you reached the course patch of dark curls that started just below his navel before disappearing past the top of his tight grey jeans, that coincidentally were also housing a _very_ obvious bulge in the front of them.

You barely registered that he had finally removed the dress from your body leaving you standing before him wearing only your black lace panties. You felt him trying to guide you backwards, but you kept your feet firmly planted on the floor as you connected your lips to his sternum and placed an open mouthed kiss on his chest with a content little sigh. He seemed perfectly at ease with what was happening based on the low humming sound that he made in his throat as you alternated between trailing stinging kisses and little kitten licks across every part of him you could reach while still standing at your full height. 

Javi softly traced his large hands along your sides while you turned your focus on opening the clasp of his belt buckle. The moment it was undone you began working on the top button of his jeans and let yourself start to slide down to your knees, except-

Except they never got the chance to make contact with the floor. Instead you felt yourself being pulled right back up by your shoulders to your full height yet again, and you couldn’t help but pout at the realization that Javi wasn’t going to let you do the one thing you’d wanted to more than anything since you two had started this whole…whatever the fuck it was you were doing with each other.

“Are you seriously _not_ going to let me blow you?” you asked incredulously as you stared him like he’d grown a second head.

“Nope,” he replied before spinning you around so that you were facing your bed as he gave you a little shove to get you to move forward. 

“But Javi!” you whined, though your words were quickly drowned out by a loud _smack_ that filled the room as you suddenly became painfully aware of a white hot stinging sensation on your right ass cheek. You whirled around to face him with a shocked expression.

“Did…did you just _spank_ me?”

“I had no choice,” he said as he shrugged his shoulders. “You were pouting again.”

“I wouldn’t be pouting if you’d just let me suck your dick,” you mumbled under your breath.

“What was that?” he asked you with his eyes narrowed suspiciously. 

“I didn’t say anything,” you replied in a much clearer and falsely sweet voice. “You’re probably just imagining things. You know, they say that memory is one of the first things to go once men reach a certain-”

“Can you stop acting like a fucking brat, and get on the damn bed already?”

Something about the slightly dark and gravelly tone of Javier’s voice made you feel like the wind had been knocked out of you. As much as you wanted to keep back talking to rile him up even more, you realized that probably wasn’t a good idea. After all, you weren’t the only one who had suffered through an entire day feeling more sexually frustrated than anyone deserved. 

You took a couple of steps backwards until you felt the backs of your knees hit the edge of your mattress, and then you let yourself plop down on it before you started to scramble your way towards the center of the bed. Except once again, you felt Javi’s large hands grab a hold of you, only this time he was gripping your ankles and yanking you back towards the edge so that your ass was almost hanging off and-what the fuck was he planning?

But the sight of him slowly kneeling down on the floor while pushing your legs open answered that question for you. You propped yourself up on your elbows so you could get a good look at him just as he hooked his fingers over the elastic band of your panties.

“I’ve been thinking about doing this all fucking day,” he murmured with a relieved sigh as he began to pull the delicate black lace down your legs. Your heart was thumping so loudly in your chest you were positive he could probably hear it too. Once the cool air of the room made contact with your wet core, you instinctively snapped your knees shut, but Javi was quicker. His hands caught them before they had a chance to close all the way, and he peered up at you with a faint smile.

“I thought we said no more hiding.”

“Right,” you whispered as you felt your legs relax back open with the help of Javier guiding them just how he wanted. “No more hiding…”

Javi dipped his head back down between your legs and dragged his nose lightly against your pubic mound and you could feel him breathing softly against your folds, before he turned his head to the side so he was directly facing the inside of your thigh. His nose danced along your skin until his lips pressed against the inner flesh of your leg and you realized with a pained sigh that he was once again fucking teasing you on purpose. You felt him smiling against your leg as he lazily placed a kiss there.

“Okay, now you’re just being mean!” you wailed up at the ceiling, choosing to focus on the large crack that was still in the plaster instead of the frustrating sight of Javi finally having his face between your thighs, but not bothering to actually put his mouth to good use. The playful nip he gave you in response made you yelp in surprise, though it quickly turned into a soft moan when you felt his tongue glide over the same patch of skin he’d just bitten. He repeated the process a few more times on different parts of your thigh causing you to writhe against the bed. When you felt him turn his head to face your other leg instead of your throbbing clit, you just about sobbed.

“I can’t believe that _this_ is what you thought about doing all fucking day.”

“Actually _corazón_ ,” he said softly as he carefully lifted one of your legs over his shoulder before angling himself closer to your center. “ _This_ is what I was thinking about doing all day…”

The sound that escaped your mouth at the feeling of Javi’s tongue _finally_ making contact with your achingly wet cunt was unlike any noise you’d ever made before in your entire life. You weren’t sure if it was a strangled moan, a failed attempt at sobbing out his name, or a combination of them both. But whatever it was, you heard yourself making it again the second time you felt him lick his way through your folds before reaching your sensitive bud, latching his plush lips around it, and then giving your clit a gentle suck. 

Somehow you found the strength to prop yourself back up on one elbow so you could watch as Javi continued to eat you out. He had his eyes closed as he worked his mouth against you with one hand tightly gripping the thigh that was slung over his beautifully tan shoulder, while he used his other hand to keep your free leg pinned open against the mattress so he had easier access to every inch of your cunt. You had never been so turned on by the sight of anyone going down on you in your entire life.

“Javi,” you whimpered down at him as you felt your legs begin to tremble. “Javi… _please_ …I’m so fucking close…”

He slowly opened his eyes and stared up at you through his dark lashes and began lapping at your clit in a way that made you see fucking stars, and within seconds your head was falling back against the bed as you came with a loud moan that echoed throughout your bedroom. The aftershocks of your orgasm pulsated through your entire body and yet Javier’s mouth never left you. You heard him groaning against your cunt and the vibrations of it against your swollen clit made your back arch off of the bed at the exact moment you felt him slide two of his fingers inside of you.

“Javier!” you moaned as you blindly reached down to fist your hands in his hair in a desperate effort to anchor yourself to anything solid you could touch that was within your grasp. “Fuck- you, oh god, you can’t be fucking serious!”

But apparently he _was_ fucking serious, and you weren’t sure if it was because you had already cum mere moments before, but you suddenly found yourself careening right back on that ledge within what felt like seconds. And when you felt him start to expertly curl his finger tips against you while simultaneously flicking the tip of his tongue on your clit, you came _again_ , only that time with a choked sob of his name as you frantically pulled at his hair. Your entire body went limp and your hands slipped away from his head. Your brain felt like mush in the best possible way, and you barely felt him slip his fingers out of you just like how you were only vaguely aware of him slowly kissing his way up your stomach.

“Jesus Christ, you taste so fucking good when you cum,” Javier murmured against your rib cage as he placed a wet kiss just underneath your breast. “Even better than I imagined…”

“Well, maybe one of these days I’ll get to taste you too,” you said in a weak voice while you tried to catch your breath.

“Yeah,” he replied as his face suddenly came into view. “Maybe you will…”

You both leaned forward at the exact same moment to kiss one another, only that time it was slow and deliberate. He let you take the lead and as you softly licked your way into his mouth, and you could taste your own sharp sweetness on his velvety soft tongue. The weight of his body pressing down on yours was oddly comforting, and even though he was still wearing his jeans, you could feel the weeping tip of his hard cock pressed against your thigh.

“Were you touching yourself when you were going down on me?” you asked as you reached your hand between your bodies to grab his cock. Javi hissed against your lips when you made a tight fist around his length and began to pump him steadily in your hand. “Fuck…You were, weren’t you? Why didn’t you say something so I could’ve watched…”

“ _Corazón_ ,” he gritted out through his teeth while he rolled his hips forward so he could fuck himself into your hand. “You can’t just say things like that…”

“Why?” you whispered as you gently swept your thumb across the slit of his cock so you could smear some of his precum around the swollen head as you gave him a firm squeeze. “You don’t like the idea of letting me watch you jerk yourself off?”

Javi let out a growl before wrapping one of his hands around your neck and pinning you down against one of your pillows. His grip wasn’t tight enough to hurt you, but it was unexpected enough to shock you into silence. He stared down at you in as he breathed heavily through his nose, and the look in his dark eyes made you moan softly. He leaned down until his lips were barely brushing against yours and you thought that maybe he was going to kiss you, but instead he only whispered two words.

“Roll over.”

Javier released your neck from his grasp and you did exactly as he said, turning around so that you were lying flat on your stomach. You listened to him take off the rest of his clothes from somewhere behind you, and just as you were about to reach over into your nightstand drawer to grab a condom, you heard the sounds of him tearing open the foil of one that he must’ve brought with him. You felt him grab you by your hips as he pulled your ass up so that it was pressed flush against him, and before you knew it he was pushing the blunt head of his cock past your folds and lining it up against your opening. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you felt him break you open, inch by inch, until he was fully buried all the way inside of you. You heard his breath hitch in his throat as he slid back out until he was barely even inside you anymore, before he grabbed your hips and yanked you back to meet his thrust head on as he plunged himself as far as he could go within your walls once again.

You had never felt him so deeply before. From this angle you could feel him practically reaching the very end of you, and there were certain thrusts he made where you were almost positive he did in fact manage to brush up against that part of you. But for every brief hint of that sharp burn you felt, the exquisite feeling of him rubbing against that one sweet spot at the front of your wall made it all so worth it.

And he did it over and over and over again…

Your hands were clenched into tight fists in the sheets beneath you, though their grip had nothing on the ironclad one he had your hips in. You were sure you were going to have marks from his fingers digging into your skin, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care about anything at all, except for the fact that Javi was finally making good on his promise and fucking you just like he’d been meaning to. 

“Fuck, baby…” you heard him groan loudly from behind you after a particularly deep roll of his hips. “You feel so fucking good wrapped around me.”

You wanted to tell him just how good he felt inside of you too, but your mind was seemingly empty of all the words you’d ever known. Instead a wordless chorus of muffled cries spilled from your lips as you desperately continued to rock back as hard as you could to match the pace he’d set. One of his hands left your hips only to come down against your ass with a loud _crack_ that made your cunt spasm tightly against his cock, which caused his movements to briefly falter. He found his rhythm again after a few seconds, though it was definitely sloppier than it had been.

“Oh _fuck_ …” he rasped out as he reached beneath you and began to rub at your clit. “Can you come for me one more time baby? Please, just give me one more…I want to feel you get all fucking tight like you do…”

“Y-y-yes!” you barely croaked out as you turned your head to the side so he could see you nodding frantically against the bed. “I…oh god… _Javi_ …fuck, right there…”

It wasn’t hard to allow yourself to completely let go a few moments later, especially when you felt Javi drape himself over your back with his entire body so he could press his sweaty face into the crook of your neck as he rocked himself into you with a choked groan of your name, before you felt him tense up above you. The feeling of him pulsing inside of you as he filled the condom with spurts of his cum had you silently wishing you could feel what it would be like if he were bare and filling just you instead…

You let yourself collapse all the way down on the bed, and Javi came toppling right on down with you. You weren’t sure how long you both laid there tangled up in one another as you listened to each other try to breathe normally again, though eventually Javi seemed to realize that he might’ve very well been crushing you under his weight and decided it was time to move. He carefully pulled out of you with a loud grunt before rolling over onto his back. 

“Where’s your bathroom, _corazón_?” 

“It’s right next to m’room,” you mumbled as you burrowed your face into your pillow. “Can’t miss it.”

You felt the bed shift as he stood up before walking across the room to open your bedroom door and then you heard his footsteps disappear around the corner towards the bathroom, no doubt to take care of the condom. You granted yourself a few moments of not forcing yourself to move at all, and then you finally pushed yourself up from the bed with a tired whine before sitting up all the way.

You room definitely smelled like sweat and sex, and you had a feeling it would soon be smelling like cigarette smoke too. You stood up on shaky legs that felt boneless and cracked your back before you stumbled over to your bedroom window and opened it up halfway to prepare for Javi’s inevitable return followed by him probably asking if he could smoke in your room. A cool night breeze worked its way in through the window and you sighed in relief as you felt it dry off some of the sweat that was still covering your body. 

“You trying to flash the entire neighborhood?” Javi asked before wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you away from the window and against his own equally naked body.

“Why, does the thought make you jealous?” you teased as you tilted your head down to kiss one of his arms. You felt him sigh behind you while he pressed his face in your hair and grumbled out a word that might’ve been “ _no_ ”. You couldn’t help but giggle at the fact that even after he’d just had an orgasm, Javier still seemed incapable of completely shaking off his grumpy attitude.

“Hey,” he asked suddenly. “Is it alright if I-”

“Smoke in here?” you finished for him. “That’s why I opened the window.”

“Am I really that predictable?”

“Ha! I fucking wish.”

You climbed back into bed as you watched Javi kneel down to where you’d dropped his jacket earlier so he could grab his pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of the pocket before he got back into bed with you. He propped up some of your pillows behind him so he could lean back and placed a cigarette between his lips and lit it with a satisfied hum.

“Oh!” you gasped suddenly causing Javi to turn and look at you in confusion. You merely rolled over and yanked open the bottom drawer of your nightstand to pull out the broken ashtray you had nabbed from the bar months ago. You rolled back over and gently set it on Javier’s belly with a little smile. He stared down his chest at it, and you noticed the corner of his mouth curled up ever so slightly before he tapped his cigarette against the edge of it to let the little bud of ash at the end of fall into the bottom.

“Thanks _corazón_ ,” he said softly. 

A comfortable silence settled between the two of you as you watched him smoke his way through his cigarette with his eyes mostly closed. And you decided to take advantage of his tired state so you could just…stare at him a little bit. You noticed that his lips were a little bit puffier than normal (no doubt from him dragging them all over your body), and that certain tufts of his dark hair were basically sticking straight out in various directions. A tiny bit of stubble was growing in along the edges of his sharp jaw and you could tell that if he ever bothered to let it grow out, it would probably be patchy in some areas. You glanced along his chest and shoulders, and saw with a small flare of pride that you’d managed to leave a few marks here and there. Though you knew those would pale in comparison to the ones you’d let him litter all over you. 

The longer you stared at him, the more you realized just how much you didn’t want him to leave. Not just tonight, but any other night you’d possibly end up spending together. The fact that Javier used to make you feel so nervous that you worried you were going to burst into flames whenever he was around, suddenly seemed laughable. As you laid next to him in your bed, both of you naked as the day you were born, you felt nothing but a strong sense of comfort and peace from being in his presence. 

“Were you planning on staying the night?” you asked him. 

Javi opened his eyes and turned to look at you.

“I can leave after I finish this,” he said as he lifted his hand that still held half a lit cigarette. “Just say the word, and I’m gone.”

“You can stay,” you offered hoping that you didn’t sound too eager at the thought. “If you wanted to that is.”

“As long as you’re okay with the fact that I’ll probably be gone before you wake up.”

“I think I can handle that.”

Javier stared down at you but didn’t say another word, and for a brief moment you worried that maybe he was mentally talking himself out of spending the night the longer he looked at you, but then he lifted his free arm up above his head. You weren’t entirely sure what he was doing until he let out a slightly exaggerated sigh before he tilted his head to the side and you realized what he was silently telling you to do. 

You scooted closer to Javi and tucked yourself up against his side and placed your hand on his chest right as he dropped his arm back down to wrap around your shoulder. The warmth of his body and the steady thumping of his heart under your palm was so calming you couldn’t help but let out a little yawn.

“Tired, _corazón_?”

“No,” you lied as you blinked slowly, suddenly having a hard time focusing on anything.

“Maybe you should rest your eyes for a few minutes.”

“Fine,” you mumbled in defeat. “Just..just a few minutes…”

You didn’t even remember falling asleep.

* * *

The sound of your bedroom window being rattled shut stirred you from your slumber, though not enough to completely wake you. With a groggy moan you rolled over and saw Javier’s blurry figure standing by the window, barely illuminated by the break of dawn that was hinted at through the glass.

Your eyes were still so heavy with sleep that you could barely make out his features even as he sat down at the edge of your bed near your face. You felt his hand smoothing down some wayward strands of hair along your head, before he leaned down and placed a kiss along your temple as he murmured something against your skin.

 _What a nice dream_ , you thought as you drifted off again just as Javi’s footsteps retreated from your room.

Because surely you had to have been dreaming…

After all, since when had Javier ever once bothered to call you “ _honey_ ”?


	9. Chapter 9

Ever since you had moved to Bogatá, your life had been filled with a lot of unexpected surprises. You always assumed that dropping out of school and randomly deciding to work at a bar was meant to be the biggest one you would ever experience while building your new life down there, and for a while it had been.

But then you met Javier, and he somehow became the biggest surprise of your entire life. 

Looking back on it, you thought it was kind of funny that in the span of just a few short months he had gone from being the handsome grumpy guy you would see from time to time at work, to your favorite regular you looked forward to flirting with every week, to one of the few friends you had in Colombia who helped make it feel more like a home than you had ever hoped it could possibly be.

But your dynamic with Javi had recently shifted yet again into something else entirely after your first night together at your apartment. And even though he was still technically a mixture of all of those other previous versions of himself that you’d grown familiar and comfortable with, now he was also your favorite and most commonly found guest in your home. Somehow he had ended up spending three nights with you at your apartment that week alone, and by the time the following Wednesday had rolled around he’d been there twice again. Not that you were complaining about it. After all, no one in their right mind would possibly be upset about getting laid again regularly for the first time in.. _._ well _,_ longenough _._

At this point you were pretty sure you had been fucked against or on almost every possible surface in your apartment by Javi. From the walls of the entryway, to your kitchen counter, to your bedroom floor when the bed itself just seemed too far away one night (though you made it there eventually). Not to mention all of the furniture in your living room, including the armchair that at first proved to be a logistical nightmare for you both until Javier had spun you around so your back was pressed flush against his chest as he held your legs open and…well your face still flushed with heat whenever you thought about what he’d made you do that night. 

You were without a doubt having some of the best sex of your life, and on top of that you were having it with someone you actually _really_ fucking liked. Sure, Javier was still a little rough around the edges at times, and getting him to talk about himself wasn’t the easiest task in the world, but when he did open up you treasured every single conversation, because with each one he ended up sharing a little bit more of himself with you. Between that and the sex Javier’s presence in your home just felt _right_. Whether he had arrived home with you after driving you both there from the apartment after your shift, or he showed up randomly on your doorstep late at night having him there with you never seemed out of the ordinary. It was almost as if he’d been there for as long as you had, and the way he moved from room to room with casual ease often made you think like maybe he had been.

You don’t even think you’d ever even needed to say the phrase _make yourself at home_ , because he did just that unprompted, but not in a way that made you feel smothered. Within moments of walking through your front door, he would always shrug off whatever jacket he was wearing and hang it on the back of the exact same chair that matched the tiny kitchenette table you owned, before opening a cabinet door to grab two glasses so he could pour you both something to drink while you busied yourself fluttering around in the background lighting a few candles and tidying up here and there. And then you’d find yourself facing him on your couch as you both sipped your way through a bottle of bourbon telling each other about your days. Eventually one of Javi’s hands would always find its way onto one of your thighs and his thumb would start to rub gentle circles against it and you’d end up straddling his lap with your tongue in his mouth shortly afterwards, your glasses of bourbon long forgotten choosing to get drunk off of one another instead.

And even though you fell asleep in his arms every night he was there, by the time you’d wake up the next day Javi was always long gone. You didn’t take offense to it though, because you knew he would make his way back to you and your bed again in a few short days. When he was gone you still felt him in the tender soreness between your legs the morning after, or in the love bites he would scatter across your body. He left behind signs he’d been with you in other ways too, like the snubbed out cigarette butts in the ashtray you both referred to as his, a few strands of his dark hair that you would find on your pillowcase, and even your sheets had started to smell like him a little bit…especially on his side of your bed.

Even when Javier wasn’t with you, it still felt like a part of him was. And somehow through all of that, he had made it impossible for you to even remember just how lonely you used to be.

* * *

You weren’t sure how long you and Javi had been parked outside of your apartment in his Jeep. You could only imagine it had been for a while now, since the light drizzle you had walked into when you both left the bar that night was now a full on downpour. On the drive over Javi had mentioned he wouldn’t be able to spend the night and that he was exclusively on chauffeur duty to make sure you made it home safely. But that didn’t stop the two of you from frantically grabbing at each other the moment he pulled up to your building and shifted the Jeep into park.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come upstairs?” You asked Javi as you nibbled softly on his ear lobe causing him to growl lowly in his chest. “Just for a few minutes…”

“C _orazón_ …” Javi groaned in frustration against your neck while you continued to gently nip your way from his ear down along his jaw. “You and I both know that if I go into your apartment with you it won’t be for… _fuck_ , baby…I’ll be up there for a lot longer than a few minutes…” **  
**

“You say that like it’s a bad thing…”

“It’s never a bad thing when I end up in there with you…” he said, though the word _you_ came out in a content sigh once you easily slid your hand into the front of his partially unbuttoned shirt and gently ran your nails across his smooth chest. You could feel the tension in his shoulders giving out as he sagged forward ever so slightly pushing you further against your door with his head tucked against the crook of your neck as he breathed you in deeply. 

“I guess it’s probably for the best,” you admitted with a sigh, still moving your hand around inside of his shirt enjoying the feeling of his warm skin under your palm. “I’m pretty sure we used the last condom I had up there anyway when you were over the other night.”

“I think I have one tucked away in my wallet somewhere.”

“Yeah, no,” you said with a laugh as you gently pushed Javi away from you. “That thing has probably been sitting in there since you first came down to Bogatá, and therefore I don’t trust that it’s held up at all.”

“Give or take a month or two,” he replied with a smirk. “But yeah, I should probably throw it out at this point.”

“Do you have to go back to the office tonight?” You asked as you leaned down to gather your bag from the floor in front of your seat. “Because if you’re up to it afterwards you can always stop by later.”

“No,” Javi said as he looked into the rear view mirror to smooth down his hair a little bit. “I have to meet with an informant, and that usually takes a while so tonight isn’t good for me.”

“Oh.”

 _Oh._

The sound of the rain pounding down on the outside of the Jeep was almost deafening in the silence that followed. You watched as Javi continued messing with his hair before giving up with a frustrated sigh and instead pulled his pack of cigarettes out from the pocket of his jean jacket and placed one between his lips. The same lips that had just been all over your own, and possibly soon to be all over someone else. 

You had once again found yourself so wrapped up in another blissful little bubble of your own making with Javi, that you’d actually forgotten about his long standing reputation for sleeping with his informants. A reputation that he had yet to disclose with you personally, and you hadn’t exactly figured out the best way to bring it up to him that you even knew about it in the first place. 

It truly was both a blessing and a curse being best friends with the gossip queen of Bogatá herself. Celia seemed to know a little bit about everything, everyone, and their business. And oh how you wished in this exact moment that Cee had never told you anything about Javi’s. 

But then again maybe it was for the best that she had, otherwise you might never have known about it. Javi obviously still wasn’t that keen on sharing all of himself with you, and while that stung a little bit you couldn’t really fault him for it. After all, there were things about yourself you considered off limits to him as well…for now at least. Besides, there probably wasn’t a tactful way for him to say “ _Hey corazón, my informants are women who are close with the cartels, and a lot of them are prostitutes, and that’s how I get a lot of my intel, when I’m not busy fucking them that is._ ” Just like how you couldn’t imagine giving him a coherent response that wouldn’t be consist of you inadvertently throwing Celia and her cousin under the bus and piss Javi off somehow with the knowledge you’d secretly known intimate details of his personal life for months now.

God, your head was starting to hurt.

“C _orazón,_ are you okay?” Javier’s rich baritone seemed to be calling out to you from somewhere much further away than the driver’s seat right next to you. The smoke from his cigarette made your head spin, and not in the way it usually did as you swallowed down a tiny wave of nausea in the back of your throat. What the fuck was happening? 

“Oh, um, yeah…sorry,” you said as you shook your head trying to snap out of whatever elaborately uncomfortable daydream you had found yourself trapped in. “I just, I guess I didn’t realize how tired I was…” **  
**

“Well then go upstairs and get some sleep,” Javi said as he leaned over to kiss your cheek. “I’ll see you in a few days.”

“Right,” you said as you zipped up your jacket to cover your dress and pulled the hood over your head before you opened the passenger door and stepped out into the street. The rain and the night air were surprisingly warm against your bare legs as you stood facing into the softly illuminated interior of the Jeep. Javi’s own face staring right back at you with his dark brows furrowed in concern.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked you again.

 _No_ , you thought. _But we don’t have time to get that right now._

“Yes,” you finally said, though Javi still looked skeptical. “Just…just promise me you’ll be safe, okay Javi?” 

Sure, your request that he be _safe_ tonight had two meanings to it, but you weren’t entirely sure he picked up on that.

“I’ve been doing this for a long time c _orazón_ ,” he replied with a reassuring grin. “I know how to take care of myself.”

_That’s what i’m afraid of…_

“Right, well, just…have a good night Javier.” 

You didn’t notice the troubled expression on his face at the sound of your pointed tone and the use of his full first name as you shut the door, probably because you were too busy trying to hop out of the puddle you had been standing in before your shoes became soaked beyond repair and all but ran toward the front door of your building. You did however notice that as usual, Javi waited for you to step inside before driving off, which normally would’ve caused a pool of warmth to gently flood the pit of your stomach, but as you slowly ascended the stairs that lead up to your apartment all you could feel was an uncomfortable tingling sensation in its place that seemed to be working its way from the base of your spine all the way to the tips of your fingers. It wasn’t until you were fumbling to put the key in your lock that you realized just how anxious you were really feeling in that moment.

The thought of Javi meeting up with another woman late at night to talk and do god knew what else was suddenly all you could think about, and you fucking _hated_ it.

 _This was ridiculous,_ you thought as you were finally able to unlock your apartment door, kicking it shut behind you with a little more force than necessary. _And so fucking pointless…right?_ Sure, you and Javi had been spending most of your free time together, talking, laughing, fucking, growing closer and more intimate with one another with each passing day. But the conversation of exclusivity between the two of you had never once come up. You knew that _you_ weren’t seeing anyone else, nor you did have any intention of doing so, but you had no idea if Javi was on the same page. So even if he was still sleeping with other people, you couldn’t really be angry with him over that…but it still hurt to think about.

The bottom line wasn’t that simple, and you knew it. There were other factors involved as to why the thought of Javi seeing other people made you feel so uneasy…because _if_ he even was, and he hadn’t bothered to say anything about it to you…what did that say about how he viewed _you_?

You trudged your way through the hall towards your kitchen leaving drops of rainwater in your wake before you made it to the little white table that was tucked against the wall and pulled out one of its chairs, the same one that Javi always hung his jackets on, and allowed yourself to plop down on the wooden seat with a frustrated sigh. Did Javi even do serious relationships? He’d never so much as mentioned a single ex _anything_ in the entire time you knew him..if that were the case, it probably didn’t bode well for you in the long run.

Wait…long run? Since when did you even start thinking that could even be a possibility for the two of you? More importantly, when did you even start _wanting_ it to be one?

“Oh fuck me,” you groaned into your hands. Javier Peña had really worked his way deep under your skin. Probably even deeper than that if you were being honest with yourself. One important question that remained, was if you had done the same thing with him.

* * *

“ _Gringa,_ I swear to god if you keep tapping your pen like that I’m going to jump over this bar and yank it out of your hand.” **  
**

“Huh?” You asked dumbly as you looked up at Celia only to find her staring intently at you with an annoyed look on her face. She rolled her eyes and let out a dramatic sigh and pointed at you with one perfectly manicured finger.

“You. The pen. That metal thing you pour stuff into for drinks that you keep tapping it against, _loudly,_ while staring off into space like you’re a sad girl in a music video for The Smiths or some shit.”

“Since when do you even know who The Smiths are?” You asked with narrowed eyes, finally putting an end to absentmindedly tapping your pen against the martini shaker. Which, for the record, you were only doing because you were bored at how slow work was. And not at all because you were too busy caught up thinking about the last time you had seen Javi the night before. “Last I checked you only used your sound system to exclusively worship Madonna.”

“People are allowed to expand their musical horizons if they want to,” she said with a huff.

“I take it your mystery boy toy is responsible for expanding those horizons?” You asked with one brow raised wondering if she was finally going to fess up and tell you who she’d been seeing the past few weeks. Whoever it was seemed to have mellowed her out just a little bit much to your surprise. 

“Among other things,” Celia said with a wink as she took a loud sip of what was left of her rum and diet. Okay, so maybe not as mellowed out as you thought. But still, in the grand scheme of things that was a pretty tame comment coming from Celia.

“Well,” you said in an impressed tone as you looked down at your watch. “You’ve been here for exactly an hour and that was your first sex joke. I think that’s a new record for you.”

“Well, _I think_ that means I should get a drink on the house as a reward for being so well behaved.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” you said with a laugh as you started making her a new drink. Celia merely swiveled around happily in her seat and blew you a big kiss. The sound of the door opening caught your attention just as you were setting Cee’s fresh rum and diet down in front of her.

“Hi,” you said turning around to walk closer to the front door from your place behind the bar. “Welcome to The Monarch- Connie, is that you?”

“It is,” she replied with a gentle laugh as she walked forward towards the bar rail, her long blonde hair was swinging behind her shoulders as she did, and you could see she was wearing her blue scrubs underneath her coat. She came to a stop at the opposite end of the bar from where Celia was and gave you a big smile that made you flash one right back her way. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah,” you replied trying to think of when it was exactly that you had seen her last. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, you hyped this place up so much the last time we saw each other, so I figured it was time to make good on my promise to come visit,” she said before continuing in a much quieter voice. “And I also wanted to give you your results from the other day.”

“My results? Oh fuck, my test results!”

How you managed to even forget you still hadn’t heard back from the clinic after your exam was beyond you. Though to be fair you had been extremely busy with work and Javier. Wait, if Connie was here in person to give you the test results, it must’ve meant she wanted to help soften the blow of whatever bad news she had been sent to deliver. Fuck, were you going die? Oh god, you couldn’t die, not before you got the chance to kill Javier if he gave you something. The distress you felt must’ve been apparent on your face, because Connie was suddenly frantically reaching into her purse looking for something

“Oh no, no, no! Please don’t be scared, everything came back totally normal! Here, see for yourself,” she said as she pulled out a sealed white envelope with your initials handwritten neatly on the front of it, which you grabbed from her with a trembling hand. “I tried calling you the other week to let you know you were in the clear, but I think you wrote down the wrong number on your intake form because I couldn’t get through every time I tried. So I wanted to give them to you in person. I figured showing up at the bar would have been less creepy then waiting for your outside of your apartment like some sort of stalker.”

The sigh of relief you let out at her words was so strong you actually sagged forward across the bar rail with a dramatic _oh thank god_ and that’s where you remained for a few minutes with your head buried in your arms while Connie reached forward to rub soothing circles along your back while murmuring _“Shhhh, it’s okay,”_ over and over again like a mantra.

“I’m _so_ sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out,” she said sheepishly when your face finally resurfaced so you could open the envelope and see the results yourself. Your heart rate thankfully slowing down even more with each big and bold **negative** thatyou read on the paper.

“It’s all good,” you said as you folded it back up and slid it in the envelope. “I was feeling kind of out of it, and that little scare actually woke me up finally so I should probably be thanking you.”

“Well, I’m happy to have helped.”

“Did you want something to drink?” You asked, suddenly remembering you were at work. “It’s on me as a thank you for going above and beyond as the best nurse I’ve ever had and hand delivering the results of my STD test at some sketchy little dive bar.” 

“You’re too sweet,” Connie said and her genuine compliment made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Once again you were pleasantly taken back by how at ease she made you feel. “Unfortunately I can’t stick around for a drink today, I have some errands to run before my husband gets home. And for the record, I’ve been to _much_ sketchier dive bars back home in the states, and not a single one of them had a pool table as nice as that one.”

“Oh, yeah that old thing,” you said hoping your face looked free of guilt. “That’s a family heirloom that belongs to the owner. I think it was built in like 1917 or something.”

“It looks really sturdy for being that old,” Connie said once again admiring the pool table. “I’ll have to come back and play a few rounds with my husband sometime.”

“Yeah, it’s uh, surprisingly well built…” you muttered under your breath not sure of what else to say without letting it slip just how sturdy you knew the pool table was from you own personal experience. 

“What are you two talking about!?” Celia suddenly asked loudly from her end of the bar with her hands cupped around her mouth, obviously feeling excluded from the conversation. 

“Is that a friend of yours? Connie asked as she smiled and waved at Celia who was openly and trying to eavesdrop at this point.

“I’ve never seen that woman before in my life,” you replied with a tight smile. “I’m kidding, that’s my best friend Celia. She was with me at the clinic that day, and she doesn’t have a full grasp on personal boundaries just yet, so she’s prone to yelling at strangers in public.”

“I thought she looked familiar,” Connie said with another one of her comforting bell like laughs. “She seems charming.”

“She has her moments,” you sighed as you and Connie watched Celia lean halfway over the bar rail to reach into the fruit tray you had left out by mistake with a straw so she could spear a few cocktail cherries for herself. “She’s also like four drinks in right now, so this might not be one of them..”

“Well, I won’t keep you from her much longer than if you need to check in on her.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much,” you laughed. “She has rum, she has fruit, and I can see her from here, so it’s all under control.”

“Are you doing anything tomorrow night?” Connie asked suddenly.

“Well, it’s my day off, so my only real plans are to sit in front of my TV all day and eat cereal straight from the box.”

Connie laughed at your admission, though it died down pretty quickly when she looked at your face and realized you weren’t joking.

“Oh god,” she said her big blue eyes widening in horror just a little bit. “You’re being serious.”

“Yeah, pretty much,” you responded with a shrug.

“Yeah, that’s not okay with me,” she said as she reached forward to grab the envelope that was still in front of you, and the pen you were still clutching in your hand and began writing something on the back of it. “You’re coming over for dinner instead of doing that.”

“Connie,” you laughed. “I was only mostly joking about the cereal thing. A bowl and some milk would eventually make an appearance. You don’t need to invite me over to feed me.”

“I don’t believe you,” she said before setting the pen back down and sliding the envelope back over to you that now had her address and phone number written on it. “And I know I don’t _need_ to feed you. I just _want_ to. Please?”

“Okay, fine. Just as long as you let me bring over some wine or something. And you can’t tell me no, cause I’ll just show up with it anyway.”

“We have a deal,” Connie said extending her hand out for you to shake across the bar which you happily did. “See you around seven o’clock tomorrow?”

“I’ll see you then,” you promised.

* * *

The cab ride over to Connie’s apartment the following night took about ten minutes. Your driver was mostly silent apart from exchanging a few pleasantries and complimenting your outfit when you first got into the cab, so you weren’t forced to make awkward small talk for the rest of your journey. Instead, you were able to relax in silence as you drummed your fingers against your knees and for once your movements weren’t because you were nervous or overthinking something. This time it was because you were _excited_. **  
**

You couldn’t remember the last time you had sat down for a nice dinner with other people. In fact you were pretty sure the last time you had was when your parents had insisted on taking you out for a farewell dinner before you left for Bogatá. Though if you were being honest, the energy of that particular meal had been about as fun as a funeral and ended with your mother sobbing into her chocolate soufflé that she didn’t want you to go, while your father chose to stoically watch the scene unfold before him and leave you to console your mother on your own, but not before ordering yet another scotch from the waiter.

Your sort of offhanded joking comment you’d made to Connie about eating cereal was a pretty accurate look into what meals with yourself looked like. More often than not by the time you got home from the bar the idea of cooking _anything_ sounded so exhausting that you really only had the patience or energy to make something simple like a bowl of cereal or a pb&j . Dinners with Celia were usually a buffet of questionable takeout choices that often resulted in you both lying on the floor complaining about how much your stomachs hurt afterwards. And Javi, well…you’d never had any sort of meal with him before. In fact, now that you thought about it, you’d never even actually ever seen Javi eat _anything_ before. Then again, if anyone in the world could successfully survive off of nothing but liquor, cigarettes, coffee, and sex, you figured it might as well Javier Peña. 

Towards the end of the cab ride, you found yourself wondering what he was up to tonight. Or who he was possibly spending it with…you had done a pretty good job at ignoring those intrusive and often way too vivid thoughts of imagining him at someone else’s apartment doing the same things to them that he did oh so well on you. Making them cry out his name as he bent them over their couch as he fucked them, or licked his way all the way down from their stomach to their-

“Alright _señorita,_ we’re here,” the cabbie said as he slowed the car down to a stop. You paid your fare and told him to keep the change as you got out and he drove off into the night the moment you shut your door leaving you standing alone in the street staring up at the large building in front of you. You noted that it wasn’t quite as tall as your own building was, but it seemed spacious in its own right and definitely nicer, complete with what looked like a little parking area behind a gate that was down a slanted driveway directly below the building. You remembered the day you met her at the clinic that Connie had mentioned her husband worked for one of the offices in the embassy, and it must’ve been a pretty important one if they got to live in such a nice and seemingly well secured place. You noticed it was also free of bullet holes unlike your own. 

You wondered if Javi was lucky enough to have scored a place in a building like this one, or if the embassy just stuck DEA agents in sad little apartments that were sterile and grey and looked like hotel rooms. As you stared up at the windows of the building, you felt a sharp twinge of sadness hit you right in your chest as you realized that you’d probably never get the chance to see where Javi lived firsthand. It was just another one of his secrets that he’d decided you weren’t worthy of knowing…

 _No_ , you thought. _You couldn’t do this. Not right now, not tonight._ You were about to have a nice, relaxing, dinner with Connie and her husband- _fuck._ You couldn’t believe you still _didn’t_ know what his name was. You hoped she didn’t think you were being rude because you’d forgotten to ask her for it…

Realizing that you had been standing in the street gawking up at a building like a complete idiot for long enough, you decided it was time to start making your way towards the front entrance. Plus, you shoulder was starting to hurt from the strap of your purse digging into it, no doubt from the weight of the two wine bottles you’d taken from the bar the day before and somehow managed to stuff inside of it. Not wanting to sit through dinner with a sore shoulder, you reached into your bag and pulled out both bottles and opted to carry them in your hands the rest of the way as you marched towards the stairs that lead up to the front door, determined to have a good night even if it killed you.

Your left foot had just _baaaaaarely_ made contact with the first cement step in front of you, when you heard that deep and all too familiar voice that you’d recognize anywhere call out from behind you…

“C _orazón?_ What the hell are you doing here? _”_


	10. Chapter 10

The unexpected sound of Javier’s rich baritone calling out to you had been so startling, that in the process of whipping around to face him you almost slipped clean off the step you had managed to climb before he’d shown up. If he noticed your brief stumble he thankfully didn’t say anything, instead he opted to stand in silence before you waiting for you to answer him. What had his question been? Oh, that’s right, _what the hell were you doing here?_ **  
**

But more importantly - to you at least- what the hell was _he_ doing here?

You opened your mouth with the intention of asking him exactly that, but absolutely no sound came out because as embarrassing as it was to admit, the sight of him standing before you wearing a fucking _suit and tie_ had all but caused your brain to shut down. 

“ _Corazón_?” Javi repeated himself, only this time your nickname was accompanied by an exasperated sigh. Hearing him make such a sound under normal circumstances would’ve made you want to push his buttons just _a little_ bit for the fun of it, but a tiny voice in your head was all but begging you to behave just this once. 

“What are you wearing?” you blurted out, inwardly groaning at the response you had chosen to give him knowing full well it wasn’t the desired answer to his question. Javi’s head tilted down so he was staring intently at the dark grey suit that covered his body as one of his hands came up to smooth down the red tie that while slightly loosened around his neck, was resting against his _fully_ buttoned white shirt. Realizing that there was nothing out of the ordinary with his outfit, he lifted his head back up to look at you with his dark brows furrowed in confusion.

“A suit,” he replied slowly, as if he was explaining himself to a small child who didn’t know what clothes were. 

“Why?”

Jesus, you were really on a fucking roll tonight.

“I had a lot of meetings to go to at the embassy today,” he said as his eyes traveled down your face to the rest of your body taking in the sight of your high waisted pants and sweater that were peeking out from underneath your open coat. Your own outfit was definitely fancier than what you usually wore around him, and you noticed that his frown deepened the lower his gaze went. “But seriously, why are you here…and with two gigantic bottles of wine?” he asked, pointing at your hands.

“I’m here to have dinner with a friend,” you finally answered. “So I grabbed some wine from the bar to bring with me. What are _you_ doing here?”

“I _live_ here,” Javi said in the same carefully measured tone as he raised his right hand to dangle a set of keys briefly in your direction. 

As usual, you felt as though the timing of the universe was both unmatched and almost painfully ironic. The fact that you had just spent a ridiculous amount of time standing outside of the very building Javi apparently lived in wondering if you would ever get the opportunity to find out where his home was located seemed like the ultimate cosmic joke. And perhaps under different circumstances you might’ve laughed, but your mouth and throat felt too dry to make such a sound.

“So who’s this _friend_ you’re having dinner with?” he asked, taking a couple of steps forward until he was only a few inches from the very step you stood frozen on. Even though you technically had the higher ground and plenty of space behind you, something about Javier’s close proximity to you almost felt suffocating, and not in the usual way you enjoyed.

“Why are you talking to me like I’m one of your suspects?”

“ _Corazón_ , you have no idea how I talk to-”

“Oh my god,” you whined loudly, which made Javi lean backwards from you slightly, his brows shooting up in surprise. “I am so _not_ in the mood for this right now!”

“Not in the mood for what?” Javi asked as he placed his hands on his hip, a telltale sign that he was starting to get irritated. The expression he wore on his tired face was one of genuine frustration, and a part of you felt bad that you were obviously adding to it. “Having to see me?”

“Well, I definitely wasn’t expecting to see you _here_ of all places!” you replied, your words still coming out in a bit of whine. “But then again, how was I supposed to know it was even a possibility that I would? It’s not like you’ve ever been really forthcoming with the details of your private life anyway.” You were too busy ranting to notice that Javi was nervously eying the bottles of wine in your hands as you began recklessly gesturing your arms around. 

“I came here to have a nice, relaxing, dinner with my new friend Connie and I guess her husband too,” you continued as you pointed at the building behind you with one of the bottles. “Not to be ambushed by you on the front steps and have you use your mean interrogation voice on me-”

“Woah, hold on a minute,” Javi interrupted with one of his hands coming off of his hips to signal for you to be quiet, much to your annoyance. “You’re having dinner…with Connie and Steve?”

“Yes, weren’t you listening to me? I…wait,” you said as finally registering what Javi had just told you. “Steve…as in _your_ Steve…is Connie’s husband?”

“Yes, _corazón_.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit.”

You knew he was right, but fuck why was it so hard to believe him at first? Looking back on what you knew about Steve, it really did make sense. You just couldn’t believe it had taken you this long to connect the dots. 

You thought back to the night at the bar when you and Javi had been drinking together right before you’d slept with him for the first time. He had talked in great length about how Steve had moved down from Miami a few years prior with his wife. _An angel of woman_ , was how Javi had described her, and then when you unknowingly met her a few weeks later, you had thought the exact same thing about her, and even said so out loud to her face. And Connie herself told you that she and her husband had moved to Bogatá because of his job with the _embassy_. Sure she had described it as boring office work, but it made sense as a believable cover story. It wasn’t like Steve and Javi could exactly walk around the city bragging about their status as DEA agents, not unless they wanted to get themselves and everyone they knew killed. Or worse.

“Oh,” you said breathlessly as you let your arm fall limply to your side. You barely registered Javi cursing under his breath as he lunged forward to grab one of the bottles of wine that had started to slip for your grasp, and all you could do as he quickly took it from your hand was stare blankly into the distance.

You never used to be this dense, you thought to yourself. Was there something in the water and the air down in Colombia that had caused you to become the most oblivious version of yourself possible? Or maybe you had broken a part of your brain that one time you’d stayed up all night partying and doing coke with Celia and a few of her friends. Oh god, had Javi told Steve about that? Were you about to spend the next few hours being silently judged by a DEA agent in his own home? 

Your heart dropped into your stomach when another thought quietly entered your head that was somehow even worse than the idea of Steve having any reason to think poorly of you. What if he didn’t think anything about you at all? Because…what if Javi had never even bothered to tell him about you in the first place?

Perhaps you were just another bullet point on the long list of secrets that Javi kept to himself. You suddenly felt like you were sitting in his Jeep all over again the night he told you he was going to meet with an informant. Your body swayed in place as a cool tingling sensation worked its way down your spine, your nerves starting to get the best of you.

The feeling of one of Javi’s warm hands tenderly cupping the side of your face startled you, and you felt yourself jump at the sensation. Which only resulted in him saying your name so softly in an attempt to soothe you that it made your chest ache even more than it already did. 

“Hey,” he said as he in a hushed voice as he rubbed his thumb against your cheek, concern heavy in his warm brown eyes. “Are you alright? You’ve got the same look you had the other night when I dropped you off.”

“What look?” you asked him thickly, letting your tongue dart out from between your lips to try and moisten them, though it didn’t do much to help. 

“Like you’d rather be anywhere but here,” he said as he moved even closer to you, his cologne and body heat to washing over you in an intoxicating wave. “You gonna tell me what’s going on up there?” Javi asked as he glanced up at your forehead before looking back down into your eyes. “Not to mention how you somehow managed to get invited to the Murphy’s for dinner tonight?”

“I met Connie at the clinic a while ago,” you said with a small shrug. “She stopped by the bar the other day to give me some test results and then she invited me to dinner. I guess we just kind of hit it off or something.”

Javi’s brows pulled back down into a tense frown and his hand stilled its movements against your cheek.

“What test results?” he asked you sternly as he frantically glanced over your entire body. “Are you sick? Did you get hurt?”

“I’m fine Javi,” you said with a sigh as you pulled your face away from his hand. “I’m not sick or anything, but…I would like to talk to you about about it at some point cause my reason for going was kind of important-”

“I don’t understand…” he interrupted yet again, and the sudden urge to smack him overtook you. “What do you mean it was important? Honey, if there’s something wrong with you, I need you to tell me.”

_Honey_. A distant and fuzzy memory of him calling you that once before surfaced from somewhere in the back of you mind, but before you had a chance to open your mouth and reassure him you were in fact just fine, and to maybe try to get him to call you that name one more time, you heard the front door open behind you. 

You turned your head over your shoulder to see Connie standing in the now open entrance of the building, the bright light of the lobby shining behind her and illuminating her blonde hair giving the appearance that a giant halo was wrapped around her head.

Connie Murphy truly was an angel, you thought. Her sudden and miraculous appearance had just saved you from possibly having to tell Javi out in the open for anyone else to hear, that the honest to god reason you had been invited to dinner was because you had formed a bond with his best friend’s wife after she had given you a very in depth pelvic exam. Not even _The_ _Twilight_ _Zone_ could hold a candle to how utterly absurd your life had gotten since moving down to Bogatá.

“Hey there!” Connie called out to you as she made her way down the stairs to greet you with a big hug. “I was starting to worry you had gotten lost, so I decided to come down and see if you were waiting outside another building.”

“I’m sorry to have worried you,” you said, hugging her back just as tightly. Her soft hair smelled like jasmine and citrus, and it tickled your face, but you held onto her anyway as tightly as you could before pulling back to take in her warm smile. “I found it okay, I just got caught up out here talking to-”

“Javi,” Connie finished for you, as she blinked over at him with her big blue eyes like she’d only just noticed he was standing next to you. 

“Hey Con,” he murmured before leaning over to press a kiss against her cheek.

“Do you two know each other?” Connie asked as she pointed at you both. 

“From the bar,” you and Javier said in perfect unison, while pointedly avoiding looking at one another. Connie glanced between the two of you and her eyes narrowed ever so slightly in a way that you knew Javi would never even notice, but you did immediately. It was the same frightfully perceptive look that you and every other woman alive had ever given someone when you knew that there was much more going on than the person on the receiving end of it wanted to admit.

“Steve told me he invited you over tonight,” she said to Javi. “Were you planning on coming over, or did you have other plans? I know it isn’t Thursday…”

“Uh, no,” he muttered as he rubbed the back of his thumb under his bottom lip. “I didn’t have any plans tonight, but it’s been a long day so I might just stay in.”

Holy shit, was he seriously considering hiding out in his apartment so he wouldn’t have to have dinner with you? You had to bite your inner cheek to keep from scoffing in disdain. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Connie said. “I made plenty of food, besides Steve said you guys had a rough day at the office, so just come over and hang out with all of us and take your mind off of things for a little bit.”

For a second Javi looked like he was once again going to try and come up with a reason to say no to her, but the tight lipped smile Connie wore on her face as she stared up at him almost as if she was daring him to defy her seemed to do its trick within a matter of seconds. Just like that, Javi agreed to come to dinner with a grumbling “ _fine_ ” under his breath. He handed her the bottle of wine he was still holding and said something about needing to change his clothes, and then he marched up the stairs without a second glance at the two of you. 

“Come on, we might as well follow him in,” Connie said as she grabbed your free hand and began walking you up the stairs with her. By the time you and Connie entered the building, Javi was already standing off to your right in front of the door that led to his apartment. He kept his back towards you as you heard him slide his key into the lock just as Connie shut the door you had just walked through. 

“He’ll be up in a little bit,” Connie said before nodding towards the stairs that were in front of you. “We’re on the second floor and to the left.”

You followed her wordlessly, your head still facing Javi’s direction as you watched him open his door and slip into his dark apartment before flicking on a light and shutting the door behind him with a little extra force than necessary, causing you to stop in place and glare at the spot he had just been standing in.

_Asshole_.

“Javi’s a little temperamental sometimes,” Connie said from her place on the stairs. “But something tells me you’re not really surprised by it.”

“Javi is always finding new ways to surprise me,” you sighed before trudging forward to where Connie was waiting for you. “The one constant thing I can count on most days is his moodiness.”

“You must see him pretty regularly then if you’re used to him and his moods.”

“I do,” you admitted. 

“Well, I’m sure once he gets some food in him and has a beer or two, he’ll be a little more agreeable.” Connie said as she opened the door to her apartment before waving you in.

“Hopefully,” you muttered as you walked inside.

The warm aromatic smell of whatever Connie had been cooking hit you the moment you entered the apartment and you felt your knees buckle slightly.

“Oh holy _shit_ ,” you moaned. “What is that?”

“Coq au vin,” Connie laughed. “My mother got me a Julia Child cookbook years ago for Christmas, and I finally decided to try out a recipe from it.”

“I’m so happy you made me come over. Staying home and eating a box of cereal would’ve been the biggest mistake of my life.”

You heard a man laugh at your words, and you turned in the direction it came from to find Steve walking out of the kitchen with a bottle of beer in his hand. 

“Jesus, that sounds like something Javi would say,” he said in a deep and accented voice as he crossed over to where you and his wife were standing in the living room. “I’m Steve Murphy,” he introduced himself by extending his hand out to you which you immediately grabbed in your own before giving him your name as well. “It’s nice to meet you ma’am.”

“Oof,” you said with a laugh. “Ma’am is a little too serious of a title for someone like me.”

“My apologies,” he said. “Just an old habit from back home I guess.”

“Honey, I’m going to go and get her a glass of wine, will you make sure she’s comfortable?” Connie asked as she took the other enormous bottle of wine you brought away from you and headed into the kitchen.

“Of course,” Steve said. “Here, why don’t you hand me your bag and your coat.” You shrugged off both items with a smile and passed them to him with a quiet thanks. Even though he was a few years younger than Javi was, you couldn’t help but notice he seemed to carry an even heavier weariness within him than his partner did. 

“So, Connie said the two of you met at the clinic?” Steve asked as he carefully hung your belongings on the coat rack in the corner by the hallway. 

_Yeah, I went there to make sure your partner hadn’t given me the clap._

“Yeah, she gave me a flu shot,” you lied with surprising ease as Connie came back from the kitchen with a glass of wine for you. You thanked her as you both raised your glasses to silently cheers each other, while Steve raised his beer bottle too.

“I ran into Javi outside while I was looking for her,” Connie said to her husband. “They were out front talking.”

“I hope he was behaving himself,” Steve said as he rolled his eyes. “Javi and I work together at the embassy and he can be…a little forward at times.”

“I know,” you replied with a tight smile. “He’s shown up at my bar enough times for me to catch onto that.”

_And I’ve fallen for it too…_

“Your bar?” Steve asked. 

“Remember honey,” Connie chimed in. “I told you she’s a bartender at that place called The Monarch Club.”

“I know, I just…I didn’t realize that she-I’m sorry, that _you_ worked there.”

“I know,” you laughed, assuming that once again The Monarch’s reputation had proceeded itself. “I probably don’t look like the type of person who would work at a place like that.”

“No, it’s not that…” Steve trailed off, suddenly very interested in the label on his beer bottle. Though the pointed stares he was getting in full force from his wife and from you were too powerful for him to completely ignore. “Javi…has just brought that place up a few times is all.” 

_Oh?_

“Really?” Connie asked, beating you to it. “Javi talks about the bar?” 

Even though Connie had seemingly asked Steve about the bar itself, it was obvious to you based on her tone that she was really asking her husband if Javier ever talked about _you_.

“Uh, yeah…” Steve said, suddenly sounding unsure of himself and what exactly he was at liberty to say. “He said he likes goin’ there cause it’s usually pretty quiet. And, uh…he may have mentioned something about a bartender once or twice.”

There it was. Proof that Javier didn’t actually consider you to be some dirty little secret that he kept from the other people in his life. And even though you weren’t entirely sure _exactly_ what was being said about you, based on the way Steve was now eyeing you in genuine curiosity almost as if he couldn’t believe you were actually a _real_ live person, you had seemingly become a somewhat frequent topic of conversation between Javi and his partner.

One that Steve obviously hadn’t expected to be having dinner with tonight. Or possibly ever for that matter.

A sudden and sharp knocking from the other side of the door caught the attention of all three of you, and Steve seemed only too eager to answer it. He immediately pulled himself away from Connie’s side and all but jogged out of the living room to let Javi in. Connie was right next to you the instant you heard Steve opening the door, and you strained your ears trying to make out the muffled conversation that was taking place between the two of them only a few feet away from you.

“Hey,” Connie said quietly as she placed a comforting hand on your back. “You don’t need to give me all dirty details, but I have to ask…are you and Javi, you _know_ …” It was a simple question with a loaded answer, and not knowing exactly what to say in response, you decided your best course of action was to nod into your wine glass as you took a big sip from it.

“Well shit,” she said as she peered in the direction where Steve and Javi were standing. “He’s probably freaking out that you’re here. Are you freaking out? You don’t seem like you are, but I just wanted to make sure. I honestly had no idea you two even knew each other…”

“It’s totally fine,” you said, though your heart that was hammering away in your chest seemed to think otherwise. “We’re all adults here. I mean it’s weird, ‘cause now this sort of feels like the most unexpected double date I’ve ever been on. Not to mention whenever he and I get together it’s always just the two of us alone…and it’s never really involved eating. Or keeping our clothes on for that matter.”

“That sounds like Javi,” Connie laughed under her breath, though she immediately stopped once she noticed that you winced slightly at her words. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by that. It’s just, Javier has a bit of a-”

“Reputation? Trust me, I know more about it then I feel like I should.”

Connie studied your features with a soft expression that would’ve looked like pity on most people, but on her it was pure and understanding sympathy. 

“Only, you didn’t hear anything about it from him…did you?” she asked you in a gentle whisper, though it was obvious she already knew what your answer would be.

“Nope,” you said, as you furiously blinked to keep your eyes from watering anymore than they already were, silently cursing that you were prone to tears whenever you felt too overwhelmed. “And he has no idea that I know, but I’m pretty sure he knows that _something_ is wrong.”

Whatever conversation Javi and Steve had been wrapped up in seemed to have finally drawn to a close, and you heard them making their way towards the living room where you and Connie stood. You couldn’t help but let out a tiny panicked chorus of “ _fuck fuck fuck fuck_ ” under your breath as their footsteps drew nearer.

“Listen, I don’t know if it means much to you right now,” Connie quickly whispered into the shell of your ear. “But for what it’s worth, Javi never really talks about the women he sees to anyone. Not even with Steve. So if he’s brought up a certain bartender more than once, I’m sure that means he’s had nothing but good things to say about her.”

“Thank you,” you whispered back just as Javi and Steve appeared in front of you both again. You noticed that Javi had changed into his usual jeans and a short sleeved button down, and you felt yourself relax a little bit as you took in his familiar appearance. He’d looked good in the suit and tie, but it wasn’t what you were used to. _This_ Javi, the one who stood before you made more sense than the other one you’d been with on the front steps. Even if his posture was a little more tense than even you were used to seeing.

“So,” Connie said, breaking the tense silence in the room that none of you seemed to want to acknowledge. “Who’s hungry?”

* * *

Dinner was off to a relatively quiet start due to the fact that everyone was too busy eating for the first few minutes, pausing between bites only to praise Connie for a job well done, or to ask someone at the table to pass them a dish. Even Javi seemed too preoccupied with clearing the food from his plate to say much of anything to anyone. 

Although, that also might’ve had something to do with how the two of you snapped at each other when he wordlessly pulled out the chair that was right beside you and took a seat before the meal had even begun.

“Are you sure you want to sit there?” you mumbled into your second glass of wine.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he responded without looking at you.

“Because you didn’t seem too thrilled with the idea of coming here in the first place, and you’ve barely said anything to me since you walked in.”

“I had shitty day at work _corazón_. Me not being in the mood to socialize with anyone had nothing to do with you. And the things I want with you about, I don’t feel comfortable discussing in front of _them_ ” Javi said as he nodded his head towards the kitchen where Connie and Steve were plating everything up to bring out to the table.

“Oh good,” you laughed humorlessly as you took another giant sip of wine. “So your plan is to just brood your way through dinner then?”

“I never fucking said I was going _brood_ my way through anything.”

“You didn’t have to!” you hissed at him. “I just know that’s what you’ll end up doing, because it’s like your default setting or something.”

“You need to stop acting like a fucking brat,” he warned with a scowl.

“Well you need to stop acting like a fucking asshole,” you countered.

Thankfully that was the moment Connie and Steve decided to emerge from the kitchen, sparing you and Javi from having a full blown argument at the table. Though there was still some rather obvious tension between the two of you in the air, you were surprised when Javi made a point to quietly serve you by reaching to the center of the table to grab each dish one by one, and put a little bit of everything on your plate before doing the same to his own. You thanked him under your breath, and even though he didn’t respond you knew he’d heard you based on the way he pointedly bumped his knee against your own.

“Wanna load me up too Javi?” Steve asked while holding his plate out with a grin.

“Go fuck yourself Murphy,” Javi replied before taking a large bite of food.

And that was the last thing anyone said for a while. By the time any real conversation picked back up after everyone had finished eating, it was mostly coming from Steve and Connie who began asking you all sorts of questions about yourself. They chose to avoid asking you certain personal questions pertaining to your love life, no doubt in an attempt to try and spare both you and Javi from being put in an even more uncomfortable situation than you found yourselves in. Instead they focused on asking where you were born, what your family was like, what your hobbies were, and of course how on earth you ended up in Bogatá of all places. You didn’t really mind it, after all the three of them had known each other for years, so it only made sense you’d be the center of their attention tonight.

“I guess…I just knew it was finally time to leave,” you said, wrapping up your story of how you’d left The States for Colombia. “I knew I wanted to go somewhere overseas, and I don’t know why but for some reason Bogatá was just always at the top of the list, so I figured why not.”

“That’s insane,” Steve said with a laugh. “I mean that with all due respect, but I can’t imagine anyone coming here just for fun.”

“Well, to be fair she did come down here for school,” Connie reminded him before flashing you a wink. “But it sounds like you made the right choice in leaving when you did.”

“I think so too,” you said. “I know it’s just some shitty little dive bar, but honestly I feel like The Monarch might be the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“Do you think you’d ever wanna run your own place someday?” Steve asked.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. “I’ve never really thought about it before. I haven’t been bartending for very long, so I’m not sure I’d be any good at it.”

“You would be fucking great at it,” Javi chimed in unexpectedly which resulted in everyone turning their heads to stare at him. 

“Oh, ha ha,” you said, assuming he was trying to tease you though you weren’t exactly in the mood for any of that. 

“I’m serious _corazón_ , you run circles around everyone else at that bar.”

You felt your cheeks and the tips of your ears grow warm at Javi so casually using your nickname in front of other people and you couldn’t help but squirm around in your seat a little bit.

“I mean..yeah I’m not a _shitty_ bartender,” you laughed. “But, I’m just like…a normal one. I can’t do any of the cool bottle tricks that Manny can.”

“You know how to open a bottle of champagne with a fucking sword that’s almost as long as your arm _corazón_ ,” Javi replied with a smirk as he tucked his arms up behind his head. “So quit trying to sell yourself short.”

Connie let out a delighted gasp at Javi’s words, while Steve murmured an impressed “ _No shit…_ ” under his breath. Meanwhile all you could do was stare at Javier suspiciously.

“I never told you I could do that…” you said. “And Manny was the one who taught me, so I don’t think that counts as me being better than him at a bartending trick.”

“I know,” Javi said with the same lazy smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “But you look a lot better than he does when you do it.”

“Javi, I’ve _never_ done that in front of you before.”

“Yes you have,” he said. “You did it the first time I ever saw you.”

You knew exactly what moment he was talking about. To celebrate your last day of training at the bar, Manny had you saber a bottle of champagne in front of everyone at The Monarch that afternoon. He said it was the only way you’d be allowed to “graduate” to a full fledged staff member of the shittiest dive bar in all of Bogatá, and somehow you had managed to miraculously pull off the seemingly impossible task without a hitch. The only thing was that happened at least two weeks before Javier had introduced himself to you. Which meant…

“You were there that day?” you asked him in surprise. “I had no idea, I didn’t even see you…”

“Well you were kind of busy,” he replied as his dark eyes trailed their way down your body. “But I definitely saw you.”

Another heavy silence filled the room, only this time the tension that was swirling between you and Javi had nothing to do with hostility. You were still trying to process the fact that he’d basically just openly admitted that he’d had an interest in you for a lot longer than you had originally thought. It wasn’t until Steve loudly and deliberately cleared his throat that the two of you seemed to remember there were other people sitting across from you at the table, though that didn’t completely stop Javi from blatantly undressing you with his eyes.

“So Javi,” Connie said while obviously trying really hard not to smile uncontrollably. “What you’re saying is we should probably go to the bar sometime and order a bottle of champagne from her.”

“Pretty much, yeah.” Javi replied after he finally tore his eyes away from your flustered face and busied himself with pulling out a cigarette from his pack. His first one of the night you noticed.

“Well next time you’re there man let us know,” Steve said as he reached across the table to grab one of Javi’s cigarettes for himself. “We can grab a few rounds, and maybe get a game or two of pool in.”

“That would be nice,” Javi said through the cloud of smoke he exhaled towards the ceiling. “Though I doubt it would top the game we played that one night, right _corazón_?”

You wondered if Steve and Connie would even bother trying to stop you if you leapt up from your seat and wrapped your hands around Javier Peña’s gorgeous throat so you could _slooowly_ choke the life out of him. Surely they’d both contemplated doing the same thing once or twice before. As tempted as you were to test that little theory, you instead settled for bringing down the heel of your boot as hard as you could on top of Javi’s foot. He instinctively reached for your hand that was resting on your knee under the table and gripped it tightly in his own as he let out a loud hiss of pain from your actions that quickly turned into a throaty and smokey cough as he tried to catch his breath. 

Steve’s narrowed eyes were focused intently on Javi before turning his gaze to you as you busied yourself with pouring even more wine into your glass. You could tell exactly when he had finished putting the pieces together in his head when his blue eyes widened suddenly and then his mouth fell open. But instead of saying anything, Steve merely shook his head and puffed away on his cigarette.

Connie however was practically beaming at you with impressed amusement and a look in her twinkling blues eyes that all but screamed _you better tell me more that pool table next time we see each other_. Sure you weren’t exactly thrilled that Javi’s thinly veiled innuendo hadn’t gone over the Murphy’s heads, but you didn’t sense an ounce of judgement coming off of either one of them. Well, maybe not towards you at least.

Javi flashed the entire table a shamelessly amused grin as he lifted his cigarette to his lips to take a drag from it before slyly asking “So what’s for dessert?”

The tension in the air broke at Javi’s words, and you were thankful for the sudden change in topic taking the attention off of you. His hand was still on yours, only now his thumb was rubbing gentle circles against your knuckles that made your heart flutter ever so slightly in your chest.

You made no attempt to pull yourself away from his warm grasp. 

* * *

The rest of dinner passed by in a bit of blur, which probably had something to do with all of the wine you’d been drinking over the course of the night. Javier was relatively well behaved throughout the entirety of dessert, apart from making a few teasing remarks here and there towards you. Which you gladly dished back to him without a second thought, almost too easily forgetting that you had an audience sitting across from you listening to everything that was being said. You gladly sat out of certain conversations between the three of them and just sat back and absorbed what was going on around you. There was no talk of the cartels or Escobar, and the only time the embassy came up was when Javi and Steve groaned dramatically over the fact that they’d been stuck inside meeting rooms all day with uptight bureaucrats who seemed to enjoy nothing more than making their lives a living hell. 

Despite the rocky start to your evening, you had unexpectedly been given a glimpse into another part of Javi’s life, and as a result had been fortunate enough to get to know two of the most important people in it as well. You wanted more nights like this, you thought to yourself. You wanted more dinners and drinks, and learning inside jokes, and having secret conversations with Connie in front of Javi and Steve. 

And more than anything, you _needed_ to let Javi know that you wanted it.

Your evening with the Murphy’s drew to a close shortly after Connie let out a tiny yawn against her will. You glanced down at Javi’s watch and noticed you’d been there for nearly three hours to your surprise, and the four of you immediately stood up and began clearing off the table. Connie insisted on sending you home with the leftover cheesecake she had made so you wouldn’t be stuck eating just cereal from the box and you swore you could’ve kissed her when she handed you the tin covered pie pan it was in.

“Thank you again so much for inviting me over,” you said as she hugged you goodbye in the doorway while Steve and Javi stood in the hall saying their own farewells. “I’m sorry for any weirdness that happened tonight. I hope I didn’t ruin dinner for you and Steve.”

“Are you kidding me?” she asked with a laugh. “I had an absolute blast, awkwardness and all. We definitely need to do it again sometime.”

“Really?” you asked with a hopeful smile.

“ _Really_ , really” she replied. “You’re part of the gang now.”

You felt as though your heart was going to burst at her words and you couldn’t stop the enormous smile that erupted across your face. That warm feeling in your chest only seemed to grow stronger when Steve enveloped you in a hug of his own after his wife released you from her arms.

“Thanks for comin’ to dinner,” he said. “I hope we can see you again.”

“I’m sure you will,” you replied. 

“Oh, and uh, thanks for putting up with him too,” Steve said quietly as he nodded towards Javi’s figure that was seemingly waiting around for you near the top of the stairs. “I hope you decide to stick around.” 

You hoped so too.

With one last smile and wave from Connie and Steve they closed their door, leaving you alone in the hallway with Javi who was casually leaning against the railing with his arms stretched out on top of it, watching you with an unreadable expression clouding his handsome face.

“Soooo,” you said as you slowly made your way over to him, the heels of your boots echoing faintly against the cement floor. “That was fun.”

“That’s one way to describe it.”

“Oh come Javi,” you sighed. “It wasn’t all that bad and you know it.”

“I know,” he said, still peering intently at you. “What are you doing tonight?”

“I was going to go home and eat the rest of this cheesecake in the bath.”

Javi snorted at your response. “Jesus _corazón_ , the shit that comes out of your mouth sometimes…”

“I’m just being honest,” you said with a shrug. “You want to have that talk..don’t you? It’s why you were waiting for me out here.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“So are we doing this right here, or…?”

“Let’s go to my place,” Javi said before he turned on his heel and headed down the stairs back to the first floor. You stood frozen in place wondering if you had just heard him correctly.

“ _Corazón_?” He called up to you from the bottom of the stairs, and then felt your feet moving forward as if he was pulling you towards him with some sort of invisible rope to help you descend the stairs. Fuck,this really happening, you thought to yourself as soon as you reached the first floor. You were actually going to step inside his home, and you felt yourself sober up immediately as Javier began moving towards the direction of his apartment while all you followed behind him wordlessly. Within seconds He reached his front door and before you could even blink he had it unlocked it and propped open for you with one of his long arms so you could walk in.

Which turned out to be the most surprisingly easy to do.

The first thing you noticed was that it smelled faintly of cigarette smoke, but that was it. For some reason you had always pictured his home would carry those same warm and rich sandalwood and amber notes that his cologne did that you loved so much. But that particular scent was suspiciously absent from the air, which also happened to be colder than you were expecting. 

You made your way through the long entryway and noticed a mirror and some artwork he had hanging up, including two god awful paintings of dogs that you had to do a double take at. And to the side there was a reading nook complete with a large bookshelf that was practically overflowing with an insane amount of books. From what you could tell, most of them seemed like they were related to his work in law enforcement, but you saw a few that looked like old psychology textbooks, as well as some novels scattered in there as well. A vivid image of Javi reading in bed suddenly filled your head, and you realized in that moment you would gladly give anything if it meant you’d get the chance to see it in person someday. 

You kept pressing forward, with Javi trailing quietly behind you watching your every move, as uncertainty and nervousness danced around in his dark eyes. You imagined you probably looked like someone who was slowly making their way through a museum, only instead of committing various exhibits to memory, you were doing it with every single room you came in contact with. From the bathroom you could make out at the end of a hallway that seemed to have green tiles of some sort in it, to his massive kitchen. Well, massive in the sense that it was much larger than your own, and knowing Javi it was probably barely used. There wasn’t a single dirty dish in the sink, and the only appliances you saw on the counter were a coffee maker and a microwave.

“Watch your step,” you heard him say from somewhere behind you, and you were thankful for the warning. His living room, which was easily double the size of yours was also a few steps down from where his kitchen and dining area was. You couldn’t help but let out a laugh when you saw he had his very own bar set up near the front windows, and even though you were curious to poke around and see what sort of setup he had going in it, you wanted to keep looking around. You set down the leftovers from Connie on his coffee table that separated his leather couch from his loveseat and noted there was an extremely out of place quilt draped over the side of it that reminded you of something your grandmother would own.

In fact, a lot of things in Javi’s apartment seemed out of place. None of the lamps really matched, and he had a strange assortment of decorative pieces scattered everywhere as well as some random artwork and plants that seemed like it had all been thrown together in some feeble attempt to tie the space together. Even though it was filled with furniture and various home decor, it somehow felt less lived in than Connie and Steve’s apartment had been. Javi had been in Colombia for far longer than the Murphy’s had, and yet this was what he always came home to. 

It didn’t sit right with you. 

You noticed a closed door tucked off to the side of the living room which you could only assume was his bedroom, and you wondered if he’d be mad if you opened it to take a peek. And you almost did, that was until you saw a picture frame that was perched all by its lonesome on top of a shelf. Without even thinking, you reached out and picked it up to take a closer look, and you couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a shaky little gasp when you realized what you were looking at.

Javier’s face, at least a decade younger than the one you knew, stared right back up at you from its wooden frame. His hair was a little bit longer, and he didn’t have his mustache, at least from what you could tell, and he wasn’t alone in the photograph, Standing next to him was a man who appeared closer to what Javi’s age was now, wearing thick wire rimmed glasses and a large cowboy hat.

“Holy shit, is this your dad?”

“Yeah.”

You gently traced your index finger over the glass that covered the photo, feeling oddly transfixed by it.

“He’s really handsome,” you said with a tender smile. “And you’re really cute.”

“Alright give it here,” Javi sighed, reaching for the picture which only made you twist your body to the side as you pressed it tightly against your chest.

“No!” you cried out. “I’m not done looking at it. And don’t make that grumpy face at me, okay? I wasn’t making fun of you. You really do look cute in this…”

“Fine,” he grumbled. “But don’t you dare try to take it out of this apartment.”

“No promises,” you said in a sing-songy voice as you went back to staring back at young Javi’s face hoping to memorize everything about him. He wore the same teasing smile that your Javi did, but his eyes seemed a little bit brighter and softer than you were used to. You found yourself once again tracing over it with your finger tip, wishing for just a split second that you could’ve somehow met the young man in the picture, before setting it back down where you found it.

“You know what’s funny?” you asked Javi from where he sat perched on the arm of the loveseat watching you. 

“What?”

“Earlier tonight, before you bumped into me outside, I was imagining what your apartment would look like.”

“Did it live up to your imagination?”

“Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting to see weird dog paintings and a blanket on your couch that looks like you stole it from a ninety year old woman.”

“I’ll have you know my _abuela_ made that blanket for me a long time ago, fuck you very much. And don’t talk shit about my dogs.”

You couldn’t help but smile at Javier, allowing yourself to bask in the familiar comfort of the bantering you so often engaged in with him. It was one of the things you loved most about him, and it was also one of the easiest ways for him to get you into bed with him. Which was why you needed to nip it in the bud before things got out of hand and you’d end up pushing him down on his leather couch and kissing him like your very life depended on it.

“I don’t know if it’s what I expected or not,” you said. “Because honestly I never really thought I’d get the chance to see it.”

“What do you mean by that?” he asked you with a frown.

“You’ve never once asked me to come here. I only ever get to see you at the bar, or my place. And sometimes that makes me feel like I’m just another one of your secrets, and it fucking hurts Javi.”

Javi noticeably swallowed at your admission, but he never broke eye contact with you. As much as you cared about him, because you truly and deeply did, there was no point in trying to downplay just how frustrating he made it sometimes. You had spent so long tiptoeing around his own self made boundaries of secrecy and keeping you and everyone else at arm’s length that you hadn’t bothered to approach him with your own. And while it had worked in favor for the both of you for a little while, it wasn’t working anymore. Not for you at least, and it was well past the time for the two of you to finally acknowledge that.

“You wanted to know what was going on up here, right?” you asked as you gestured towards your head.

“More than anything,” Javi replied and you knew he was telling the truth. You just hoped that wouldn’t stop the further your conversation went.

“That night when you dropped me off, you said something to me that made me realize we should probably clear the air about a few things. Just so we’re on the same page moving forward.”

Javi gave you a curt nod encouraging you to continue, his hands clasped tightly together in a white knuckled grip between his long legs.

“I know about your informants,” you said in a voice that was thankfully steady despite the ice cold nervousness that was cruelly sweeping its way through your trembling body. “I’ve known about them since before you and I started sleeping together.”

“Who told you?” he asked.

“Celia,” you replied, choosing to lay everything out in the open at long last. “After you and I met, I told her about you. She’s the one who told me that you were in the DEA.”

“I’ve never even met Celia,” Javi said with a frown. “How did she know-”

“You used to sleep with her cousin Luciana, though according to Cee she went by Lulu back when she was still working out of one of the brothels here in the city.”

Realization dawned on Javi’s face and you saw his shoulders droop downwards as he let out a heavy, yet silent sigh.

“I remember her,” he finally said, and you noticed there was a trace of fondness in his voice. “When we met she was spending a lot of time with this fucking scumbag named Poison, Lulu was one of his favorite girls for a while…she got spooked coming to see me after a few months, so I cut ties with her.”

“Cut ties?” you asked. “To protect her from that Poison guy?”

“Yes,” Javi replied as a stormy expression filled his eyes causing them to appear almost black. “These men that Steve and I go after… _corazón_ , when I tell you that they’re fucking monsters, I mean they’re are the literal worst of the worst. I couldn’t risk them finding out she was an informant for the DEA, not after what happened to…” Javier’s voice trailed off and he closed his eyes taking a few deep and measured breaths before allowing them to open once again. The storm had passed and all that remained was a far off and haunted look that made your throat tighten up.

“So, she finally got out?” he asked after a brief silence.

“Yeah,” you said softly. “I guess she did.”

“Good…I’m glad.”

Javi still looked troubled, and as much as you wanted to reach out and offer him some sort of comfort, you knew him well enough that for now it was best to just keep pushing forward so you could wrap up what needed to be said between the two of you and call it a night. 

“I know what you want to ask me, _corazón_. So you might as well rip the bandaid off and do it now.”

For the first time ever, Javier was willingly letting you take full control of everything, allowing you to steer the conversation and the aftermath that would follow however you saw fit. The significance of this moment was not lost on you.

“The informant you met with the other night,” you asked, surprised at how even your words were spilling out. “Did you sleep with her?”

“No,” he answered with hesitation. “She wanted to, but nothing happened.”

You could live with that, you thought as you allowed yourself a few seconds to absorb his words as you prepared to ask him the next question you needed answered.

“Have you been with anyone else,” you began, and this time your voice finally cracked against your will. “Since you’ve started sleeping with me?” 

“Yes,” he admitted, and there seemed to be a twinge of remorse in his voice.

“More than once?” You knew what was coming before he even opened his mouth, but it still stung all the same when he said the word yet again, and this time it sounded heavier.

“Yes.”

The two of you stared at one another for what felt like an eternity in Javi’s silent apartment. The only sounds you could hear were the steady ticking of his watch, and the quiet thumping of your own heart that was beating slower than normal. Neither one of you seemed eager to speak, or maybe you just had no idea what to really say to the other. 

Javi ended up being the first to break.

“Are you okay?”

The unfeigned concern that coated his words hurt more than the small comfort they provided, but you were grateful for it nonetheless.

“I don’t know,” you said. “I definitely don’t feel that great about… _any_ of this.”

You were exhausted. _Javi_ was exhausting, and tonight he’d left you feeling weary in ways that you’d never once experienced before. But that weariness you felt was one of your own making as well, and if there was any hope for the two of you to move forward together instead of apart, you knew exactly what needed to be said, and you were finally ready to say it.

“I know you had a life down here before I showed up, and I know that you can be stubborn and set in your ways. And I know that even though you can be a huge asshole sometimes, you’ve never once intentionally set out to hurt me,” You paused for a moment to take a deep breath before continuing while Javi remained seated exactly where he’d been since your entire conversation began, clinging to your every word with razor sharp focus. 

“But you omitting to tell me about this part of your life, was so unbelievably hurtful and just plain _shitty_ , in so many different ways. I know we never really had any conversation about exclusivity, or what that means to either one of us, but you’re the only person I’ve been with since I came down here, and I plan on keeping it that way.”

“So what exactly are you saying, _corazón_?”

“I’m saying that I don’t think either one of us knows where this is going, and I’m not expecting us to figure out exactly what _this_ even is between the two of us tonight. All I know is that I really fuckingcare about you Javi. And despite your weird aversion to talking about your feelings, or yourself for that matter in general, I think you might care about me too. So, this is me simply asking you to consider letting me be a part of your life the way that I want you to be a part of mine. And if you could also _maybe_ consider not fucking other people while you’re fucking me, I would really appreciate it.”

“I honestly can’t tell if you’re mad at me right now,” Javi said as he narrowed his eyes suspiciously. You wondered if his confusion was born from the fact that despite the heavy topics you’d just covered, you had never once raised your voice at him. 

“Oh, I’m mad alright,” you laughed as you bent down to grab the cheesecake from the coffee table. “But I’m mad at myself too for waiting so long to even bother having this conversation with you. And more than anything, I think I’m just tired.”

“Tired?” he asked, not bothering to mask the concern in his voice. “Of what?”

“Tired of always learning about all of the important details I should know about you from secondhand sources rather than yourself,” you replied, suddenly wanting nothing more than to be tucked far away from here in the comfort of your own bed. “Tired of worrying that maybe this is nothing more than just two lonely people fucking each other to pass the time…”

_“Corazón,”_ Javi started shooting up to his full height and moving forward like he was going to grab you, but he stopped himself before he could get too close. “I…you’re…I mean, _we_ …fuck.” His words trailed off into nothing, and Javier looked as though he was hoping that the earth would just open up beneath him and swallow him whole.

“Like I said,” you sighed as you turned away from him and made your way towards the front door. “I’m not expecting either one of us to have all the answers tonight. I just needed you to know how I felt so we could…try and be better together I guess.”

“That’s why you were at the clinic, wasn’t it?” Javi called out to you. “Because of us?”

_Because of me._

“Yeah,” you said turning to face him. “But I probably would’ve ended up there regardless even if I didn’t know about your history with half of the women in this city. Better safe than sorry, you know?”

Javi visibly flinched at your words, but he still nodded his head seemingly in silent agreement with your reasoning. 

“Did you want me to take you home?” he asked, once again giving you the power to call all of the shots however you wanted, no questions asked.

“No,” you replied. “I’ll just get a cab.”

You had managed to crack open the door by a few inches when you once again heard Javi’s voice calling out from behind you, only this time it was closer and sounded almost hesitant. You glanced over your shoulder and found him standing in the hallway just a few feet away from you and looking more unsure of himself than you’d ever seen before.

“I’m sorry,” he said, the guilt in his eyes was louder than his own words but that didn’t stop them from tumbling out of his mouth seemingly against his will. “For hurting you…or ever making you feel like you couldn’t be safe with me.”

“I know Javier,” you whispered back to him before walking out of his apartment leaving him alone with both his thoughts, your words, and an important decision to make.


End file.
